Un royaume au dessus des nuages
by Miggyrow
Summary: Born the last "son" of Attila, Tanjin's life changed when he met Arthur and his Sarmatian knights on the road to the wall. Obviously, it's a terrible idea to give a Prince Hun a seat around the round table. Though Arthur had yet to realize.
1. Prologue

**Un Royaume aux dessus des nuages, par delà les monts de la destinée et les rizières de sang**

**Disclaimer:** None of King Arthur's characters belongs to me; I think we've established it by now. Though, like most of you, I wouldn't mind keeping Tristan and Lancelot all to myself. But we can't always get what we want, huh? I'm trying to be as original as possible, but if you find similarities with another story, feel free to tell me. But no flame please! So the original characters belong to me, and because I'm a bitch at heart, I'm not sharing. You've been warned! Just don't use any without my consent. I know. I'm being rude. But these things need to be said, don't they?

**Rating:** It will go up and down, depending essentially on my English writing skills. I hope it will improve by time. Perhaps PG-13 to begin with, so I will be on the safe side.

**N/A:** I hate summary! If I sum it up, I think you will never read me! I'm not overconfident; my story is most likely of the not-so-good side, English is not my mother language. It's the first time I seriously tried to write something in english. Perhaps with a little luck, I will have one review. So basically, this story takes place between eleven or ten years before the battle of Badon Hill. There will be adventures, action and a little bit of romance. I hope my characters are not too Drama Queen or Marie-sue-ish, I don't want this story to turn into a soap opera. _  
_Arthur and his knights are 20 at the beginning of the story. That's because I really hope the Romans weren't so sadistic to send only seven men on the battlefield for fifteen years. And also, in the movie, Arthur has said they were much more. I draw some inspiration from the legends for some of the characters.

I also draw inspiration, from Attila, the TV movie and the book. I don't know if the story will be historically accurate but I will try to stay coherent. To stay in the line of King Arthur's movie, I tried to give to each Knight a personality and proper fighting skills. I said… I tried.

This being said...

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**Prologue**

Historians agree that the classical 15th century tales of King Arthur and his Knights rose from a real hero who lived a thousand years earlier in a period often called the Dark Ages.

Recently discovered archaeological evidence sheds light on his true identity.

By 300 AD,

The Roman Empire extended from Arabia to Britain.  
But they wanted more.  
More land.

More people's loyalty and subservience to Rome.

But no people were as important as the powerful Sarmatians to the East.

Thousands died in that field.

And when the smoke cleared on the fourth day,

The only Sarmatian soldiers left alive were members of the decimated but legendary cavalry.

The Romans, impressed by their bravery and horsemanship, spared their lives.  
In exchange, these warriors were incorporated into the Roman military.

But during this time, the Great Samartians were not the only nation to have caught the attention of the Roman Empire.

But this time, they met some resistance.

And for once, in a while, the Roman Empire stumbled in front of the will of a lone man.

A very old nation had found its roots in the steppes and the Depths Mountains of Central Asia.

It was a nomadic, barbarian race unknown by the romans until the birth of a chimera among them.

Attila, the Scourge of God, was his name.

He was a king so powerful that men died whispering his name in fear of facing him.

For some,

He was a demi-god sent by his Fathers to cause chaos on Earth,

A cannibal who ate two of his own sons and gave his daughters to wolves,

A monster who wanted to conquer Rome and the whole world.

The war between the Romans and the Huns broke out in 440 when a Roman bishop was caught desecrating Hun tombs.

Attila and his army proved unbeatable as they swept into the Roman Empire defeating them time after time.

For many years, the Eastern Roman Empire, ruled by Theodosius II, had paid Attila extreme amounts of money and gifts to keep an unsteady state of peace.

One of those gifts was a roman princess named Olivia.

Flavius Solitius, a roman general, well-known for his cruelty, sentenced without any mercy, Olivia, his youngest daughter to a promised death when he agreed to give her to Attila.

This was supposed to be a poisoned gift as roman folklore sang the craziness of Olivia long after her death.

But mesmerized by her dark beauty who matched harmoniously her madness,

Attila fell in love with her.

As such,

Olivia of Rome became the sixth wife of Attila the Hun.

The Bloody High Queen

Once Roman

Was reborn

Hun

On that fateful day.

She gave him only one child.

A daughter she secretly named Tangwen.

However,

Olivia knew the Hun King only favored his sons.

So that night,

She presented the baby to the King as a son.

He was the twenty-fourth and the last son of the Scourge of God.

Soon the East became not enough for Attila, and in 451, he turned his aggression towards the Western Roman Empire in an attempt to expand his kingdom.

The Huns organized one of the largest invasions of this time composed of perhaps as many as a half million men. The Huns spread across Gaul and pillaged many great cities. The Romans quickly united with the Visigoths, enemies of the Huns, and formed an army to meet Attila. The Huns were surprisingly halted and forced to retreat a hundred miles from Rome.

Attila was not discouraged, however, and planned to redirect his invasion into Italy, the heart of the Western Empire.

So, in 452, back home, Attila planned his next campaign on the Romans.

But his plans were suddenly cut short with his untimely death on his wedding night, when he married Ilico, his seventh wife. During this particular night, he got drunk and suffered from a hemorrhage of the nose. The rumors wanted Ilico to not be a stranger to those events. And she was killed the day after the funeral of the great Attila.

After his death, Attila's elder sons gained the leadership of the Huns. But they were ravenous and jealous, spending their time fighting over the throne. They exiled four of the Royal queens and estranged their young children.

Most of them, weak and unprotected, were later slain by the Roman army.

They divided the empire, which soon led to its crippling.

By 469, the Hun Empire was completely dissolved, faded out as a memory only.

But somewhere, in Gaul, Olivia of Rome, survived the fury of the deities and raised behind closed doors the last son of Attila, the scourge of God.


	2. The son of the scourge of God

**Disclaimer: **Don't own anything but my own characters...

All my thanks to Lady Morgan Scarlett…

1. Son of the Scourge of God

When they arrived at the Epithelium's fortress, Arthur and his fifteen sarmatians knights were mesmerized by the sight before them. They stopped their mares by the gates, gazing at the roman casern blazing in fire. It was an apocalyptic scene. One like those chaotic pictures described in Arthur's bible. People were running all around. Women were screaming frightened by the length of the flames. Roman soldiers were trying to put out the fire, some of them falling because of the fumes, some tripping with buckets of water in their hands.

"Wow, they certainly seem busy!" A sixteen-year old blonde boy named Gawain commented. He was one of the last to join but he was already well integrated because of his good-nature and his devastating sense of humour.

"The place is an absolute mess", Agravain stated, riding along with his brother.

"Talking about stating the obvious", Duncan muttered, stroking his mare's head and side lovingly.

His short, chestnut brown hair was cut in roman fashion. Not that you could make any comparison. He would have your tongue cut before you finish your sentence. A big scar on his right eyebrow has marred his juvenile features since his first battle about two years ago. But what the maidens usually said about seventeen-year old Duncan was that he was one of the handsomest knights they'd ever seen and one of the most unattainable too. Duncan was the best rider of them all. It was common knowledge that this particular sarmartian took his horse into more consideration than any human being.

"Well, Romans! I would not be surprised if they set this fire by themselves! Stupid Git!" Bors grumbled gruffly.

He was a really large and burly man on his late twenties, the proudest father of two little bastards and the oldest of Arthur's knights with three of his friends, Dagonet, Percival, and Braden. They all laughed at Bors antics except for three of them.

Tristan, the quiet one, as his companions called him. He didn't talk much, finding peace in the silence of his own voice. He liked most of all to keep a distant view towards the world. Tristan was a watcher. He loved to observe. He didn't think much about commenting on what he had seen. For him sharing emotions was not necessary. He loved to keep his knowledge for himself. He smirked defiantly, almost wolfishly, with bloodlust lighting in his piercing, brown eyes. Like now, he knew for sure that this was the work of a lone man. The way the fire burned quickly, showed that it was deliberate and premeditated. But in this way the fire was not even localised. The way it spread swiftly with the wind told another story. It was a rash act. An action exacted by rage and desire of revenge. A smell of wine filled the air and teased his sensitive nostrils. He let out a sadistic snort that surprised the others. This guy had done a terrific job. If it was one of the Woads Arthur had told them about, he was ready for interesting battles. The others watched their scout with a mix of curiosity and renewed respect. Some even stared at him with fear. It was like Tristan had had all the answers. His eyes were well-trained at picking the smallest details. Ok, perhaps it wasn't the entire truth. Actually, Tristan had some answers. And he could investigate the rests. But the truth was he personally didn't care if the whole fortress would burn to the ground. He really didn't care of all this fuss around a little fire. Had the Roman Empire been all dismantled, Tristan would continue to smirk wilily with total coldness.

And there was the young, eighteen years old Lancelot, who was gritting his teeth annoyed as he followed Arthur's horse through Epithelium. He was fuming, silently cursing Arthur with his ideas of duty. He believed that they were enough. He didn't see the need to go to recruit again. They were enough to go to face death. He longed to see their post in Hadrian's Wall. He was sick of riding all day long. His arse was begging for rest. He looked at the small fort. He could probably find a tavern here, have a good drink and find a pretty wench to help him release some of his frustrations. He smiled a bit but soon a frown replaced his smile again. What was the point in taking more other boys with them? They were 15. Fifteen destined to die for Arthur's Rome. How fitting fifteen boys with fifteen years of service? If one dies each year, there would be no one to take his discharge paper at the end of their time in Britain. It was disgusting, really! It was like he was one of these roman legionnaires, travelling through country to steal young boys from their families. Sure, these boys had already been taken away but it was still bad memory for him. Hearing Bors, he couldn't help but scoffed in turn.

"Romans! Tell me why we have to come here and put up with them?"

"Ah yeah, let me see. Is it the fact that noble Arthur is one of these insensitive and arrogant Christian pricks," fourteen-year old Blaez retorted.

His hair was so blond that it seemed like golden wheat, shimmering under the last lights of summer. Blaez was a restless spitfire. His tongue was so sharp; it could lick flesh and wound pride with as much accuracy as that of a burning arrow.

"Oh perhaps he is not so much on the insensitive and arrogant prick part," conceded Melan.

Melan was soft-hearted. He couldn't help taking offence for his captain. Arthur had been so kind to him.

"Yes, we like very much our new commander," Gawain added with a smile which graced his jovial features. Nothing could alter his good mood.

"Most of the time, nobody can see the roman in him! Thanks to his God!" Andreas teased joining his hands in prayer, like the Christian way.

Riding ahead of them, Arthur, their commander, kept his face stoic. He couldn't share their irony because, no matter whatever allegiance he felt towards his men, he was roman by blood. And he couldn't help feeling guilty for the roman soldiers, lying lifeless in front of him. Perhaps if they had arrived sooner, all of this would never have happen. He glanced at the ground as his white steed took a steady path through the camp. There were seven bodies aligned in front of the casern, all dead by suffocation as it seemed. But then he saw a trail of blood tracing a pool on the ground and he knew for certain it was no accident. He was worried of what, or mostly who could have attacked the Roman fort. They must have been either incredibly carefree or incredibly bold. He almost didn't hear Lancelot behind him.

"Don't try to put the blame on your large shoulders, Arthur! And please don't start to brood! You can't save the world. You would prefer to let Finn die on the road? You, Christians, you never know when to quit you martyrdom act, huh?"

He tried to ignore Lancelot remarks. True, he was rather fond of the boy, but sometimes, it was like his friend couldn't understand his responsibilities. They all had arrived in Britain two weeks ago and he didn't want to have to face a new enemy so soon. He didn't want to engage them in battle so quickly. He didn't even have time to test all of them. They were all so young. He wasn't sure if he, himself, would be capable of leading them.

"Captain Artorius Castus!" A man called, three feet away on his horse.

He recognised Marcus Olympus, the commander of the fort. The man was fairly tall with short white hair. He was thirty years older than Arthur. He looked weary because of lack of sleep but he managed to maintain his noble stature. An air of superiority and great distrust clouded his greyish eyes for a moment when he took a peek at the sarmartian cavalry. Yet, he greeted Arthur with a big smile.

"Artorius Castus, my young friend. I was waiting for you earlier this week."

Arthur greeted the man with respect.

"I'm sorry, Commander Marcus, one of my men faced a small misfortune. And we have to stop for two days." Arthur explained as he dismounted Ahmar, his white war horse.

Finn, the man in question was only twelve years old. And the red-headed boy blushed, his nose twinkling with embarrassment. A good shade of pink coloured his pale complexion. He had been extremely ill after their four days journey on boat. In addition to his sea sickness, Britain's weather didn't treat him well. But Arthur had been really patient and had requested their temporary halt in a clearing area so that Finn and the other youths could take a rest. Arthur glanced at him for a second, smiling directly. Finn was one of the boys who he was more concerned about. He took him because the lad was smart and a fast-learner. He was an amazing acrobat too. So Arthur had immediately thought to use his talents on battlefield. He had to negotiate hard though because Lucius Theodore, Finn's master had destined him for stable duty because of his small figure. Arthur believed that all men deserve a purpose. He was touched by the lack of confidence in Finn. It was a shame that Finn, in his youth, didn't believe he could make a difference. Arthur knew he could make a good knight. They just had to give Finn some more time. And fifteen years or so was what they had.

At this point of the journey, Arthur was beyond exhaustion but he was well aware that it was only the beginning.

"Can we help?" He asked pointing the casern despite the fact that the fire seemed to be taken care of.

The commander turned to see back like he had forgotten all about the fire.

"Oh this! No, it will be okay. I believe it's nothing." he said not even mourning his men's death.

"Things had already been taken care of."

He pointed toward a group of six men who were struggling vigorously with a mysterious dark clad figure. All the Sarmatians at this point dismounted their horses, and approached the group, eyes focused on the brawl.

A short man was fighting valiantly against Marcus' men. He was punching and kicking among the crowd, his movement fast and frenetic. He found a way to stand on his feet and punched his opponent's face. The roman screamed in pain, holding his face to prevent the loss of his left eye. It was at this point that the Romans realized that their assailant carried weapons. All at once they jumped on him, pummelling him and kicking down, like they would cope with an enraged dog. Finally, the short man crawled on the floor, momentarily paralyzed by the pain which had invaded his body. A rain of punch fell upon him, like hail. He didn't let out any sound.

"Enough, Men!" Marcus ordered. He approached the boy, hands on the handle of his sword.

Arthur followed him closely, along with Lancelot and Tristan. Lancelot wanted to congratulate the man who managed to kill so many worthless roman trashes and Tristan followed just out of curiosity.

What they saw, pinned in dirt, beneath three Romans, was a really small man, smaller then a dwarf. He was breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath while spitting the mixture of mud and blood on his mouth and reckoning his strength for the next assault. He was lying on his stomach, Marcus' soldiers gripping his arm hard on his back and twisting his wrists ruthlessly. His dishevelled, raven-black hair reached the middle of his back and covered partially his face. Arthur gasped with astonishment when he realized the dwarf was actually a small boy.

"It's again the scum, sir!" One of the soldiers announced as Marcus walked to them. The roman Commander put his boots on the top of the boy's head. He scratched them on the young boy's cheek like it was a scraper.

"This boy is only a trouble. I made a mistake once", Marcus said with venom. "Kill him!"

The soldiers would eagerly comply with this command but Arthur's outburst stopped them.

"Stop! You can't!"

"What?" Marcus asked surprised.

"It's just a boy, Commander."

He nodded in the direction of Arthur to let him know he understood his reserve but he had other plans.

"He is no a mere boy. He is the son of the devil. Last week, he attacked one of my lieutenants. And even a good beating can't tame this animal! He is a spawn! He only brings death! He is evil!"

"It's a boy… a child!" Arthur stated again, like it was all the answer he needed to get past Marcus' disgust.

"Arthur, my friend! You are a good man with a tender heart. But sometimes I fear for your own safety. You are too naïve, for your own good!"

He made a quick gesture to dismiss his soldiers. They lifted the young guy from the grown. He had a very dark complexion, either caused by the mud, the blood, or the soot on his face. You couldn't tell if the boy was white or black. He had the strangest eyes Arthur had ever seen. The most astonishing, cat-like green eyes he had ever had the pleasure to gaze at! He looked at Arthur like he could pierce a hole in his armour. His predatory demeanour was by any mean diminished by the restraints they had put on his hands. Grasping one of his jailer's arms to stop him, Arthur kneeled in front of the boy.

"What's your name?"

"Be cautious Arthur", said Tristan calmly, not taking his eyes off the boy.

Arthur turned asking what was that Tristan was talking about. And, just at this moment, the boy lunged for Arthur's throat, his hands tied with the ropes, but the blade of a dagger shinning under the sun. But, unfortunately for the boy, Tristan was also quick. And the young one howled in excruciating pain when Tristan punched him in the gut, sending him to the floor, doing in one swift, precise motion what the Romans had been trying to do for one hour. The boy coughed an incredible amount of crimson bile on the floor, vomiting loudly between heavy pants. The soldiers were taken aback by the efficiency of the Sarmatian's fighting skills.

Even Gawain couldn't help but wincing for the poor boy.

"Wow! That was harsh, Tristan!"

"Do you think, he killed him? " Agravain asked his brother.

Gawain shrugged.

"For me, he seems as if he is still breathing."

"If he is not dead", Bors replied with a crooked smile toward his silent friend, "The boy surely wishes to have been!"

"I said: restrain him!" Marcus yelled to his men. "It includes, you incompetent bastards, to disarm him!"

"But I have searched for weapons! He had nothing, my lord!" A soldier retorted vehemently.

Tristan took a step forward kneeling on the floor. He pulled the gloved hand of the boy in the air. He pressed his palm slightly and then a little blade appeared gleaming with the blood of the newly one-eyed roman. With another pressure the blade retracted into the leather.

"Wow, I want something like this for my birthday!" sir Lancelot sneered. "This little bastard sure knows how to have fun!"

"Ask him Arthur, if he wants to share his toys with us!" shouted Bors. "We would do great things with one of his blades against the demonic Woads! And I could surely come back alive to my lover."

"What's your name?" Arthur asked once again turned to the boy.

The boys just gazed at him, a scowl of anger on his face. But he was now aware that these people were different. They were far more skilled than the Romans there. He remembered then the already well-known Arthur and the Samartian Knights that everyone was talking about these last few days. They were riders from the East, the Elite of Rome's army in Briton and Gaul. Most importantly, there was also the fact that Tristan's punch had nearly killed him. Maybe he was mad like hell, but he was not stupid. He couldn't win this battle. The guy seemed to be a tough warrior. And now he was in no condition to fight back such an opponent. But mind you, he was already planning his great victory against this "Tristan" guy. He would take great pleasure from this killing.

He glared at the scout and turned toward Arthur but before he could open his mouth to answer, Marcus cut him off.

"Why bother Arthur? He can't understand you! And believe me, I've tried every thing with the scum. We believed the devil cut his tongue so that he could not talk about his father's plan. This boy is a waste of time! And of space! Bishop Aurelius gave him to me before his return to Rome. He and his mother were Great War prizes. He is just a slave for Rome."

"A slave? He is a good fighter!" Arthur stated.

"He is a good fighter but he is unpredictable. I admit he helped us once. But, don't raise your hopes too much. Last week, the bastard attacked and killed one of my officers during his sleep. He has no intelligence, no qualms, and no sense of honour …"

"That reminds me of some Roman asshole's description!" Blaez snorted loudly earning a glare from Marcus, a tired "you're not helping me here" type of look from Arthur, and tons of laughers from his companions.

"He put the dorm of some of my officers on fire, for god's sake! Mark my words Arthur; this barbarian dog will be taken down before the sun is set. "

"But he is just a boy!" Melan shouted horrified.

He didn't believed they were about to kill a boy younger than him. He saw not only the bloodlust in the boy's eyes but also a sign of vengeance. Romans were far from innocent. He was aware that Arthur was quite the curiosity. And that could only do with the fact that he was also half Briton. Melan knew as a Sarmatian what these men were capable of in order to demonstrate their power. He couldn't help but pitying this poor human being. Melan took a step forward to stand next to Tristan. He fumbled with extreme care the boy's head to see if he had any injury. Tristan was not known to spare his adversaries. Melan, according to his caring nature, was a good healer. His grandmother had told him everything before he was enrolled in the army. She used to say a warrior has not only to know how to kill but also how to heal.

"Be careful, Melan! He might just bite you!" Andreas, his best friend mocked.

"Tristan will protect me! He really seems in a caring mood!" he replied gleefully not seeing Tristan's angry stare behind the barrier of his wild locks.

"Let me be, you fools!"

The boy suddenly barked scaring the soldiers close to him. His voice was rough and grave, probably from a long period of silence. But Tristan did not move, neither did Melan.

"So he has a tongue" was the only comment of the scout.

"And he knows Latin" Melan added with a sweet smile.

"He is creepier than Tristan" shivered the superstitious Danis. "Maybe, he is a spirit after all."

Arthur turned to Marcus to talk about business. They walked a little apart from the group.

"I want him."

"Artorius, my friend, you can't be serious. He is a threat. He has to be taken down. God…"

"He is not a dog. And before you say it, our god would have asked our compassion. "

"He has a no real value. I've prepared the selection of some Sarmatians for you. They are at your service now. Three good fighters prepared to serve your purpose. It is not enough for a young man like you?"

"I want the boy too."

"He is not Roman…not even Sarmatian. He is less than a barbarian…"

"So are my knights. I'm sure they will all get along well."

"I saw him trying to kill you !"

"Does he tries next time, he will not be so lucky! But I know he wouldn't try. I'm bringing him with us to Hadrian's Wall."

"This is an insanity Arthur even for you!"

"He is a good fighter! No, he is a terrible warrior!"

Marcus shook his head in denial. This boy was a trouble. A barbarian trash of trouble that deserved nothing but death.

People who didn't really know Marcus would mistake him for a monster. Truth is, he wasn't. How so?

Because in one population of Christian fanatics, avaricious and despicable roman leaders, the truth is he wasn't the worst. True, he had brutalised one or two whores at the tavern, killed one or two innocents, and stolen some rich pagans' goods. He had been exiled here for so long that he was incapable of drawing Rome's map. He had all theses flaws in his personality which was not nearly enough to be crossed by the few qualities God gave to him at birth. But there was still something left. First, he was loyal to his friends. But as there was not so many he could call friends, people rarely got to see this trait in his character. For instant, he had fought beside Arthur's father. He had seen young Arthur as a baby. He considered the young captain, part of his family and was partially incapable of denying him something.

"You are stubborn, my young friend. But now he is under your rule. I don't want to see him again. Ever. He will have his chains when he stays in my fortress. I really don't trust him free. If he killed another of my men before you go… Or if there is any problem in my garrison, even if it's a stomach-ache caused by the food, I'll kill him."

"Thank you Marcus! We will leave first in the morning. The boy will no longer be a burden to you."

"But for you he will be my young friend and believe me when I say the Hun isn't a piece of work."

"Hun?"

**N/A: Do you want more? Review please and let me know what you think!**


	3. Hun?

2. Hun?

All the knights in training had been put together in a large dorm. They each had a cot except the Hun who was chained up to the wall despite Arthur's insistence. He was currently sleeping on the floor. Or so it was what the others thought. But Tristan knew better. He was watching him from the corner of his eyes, cautious of every movement of his little body. He knew the boy liked to kill. And despite what Arthur said he didn't really trust the Hun to change. The boys relished in chaos. He couldn't really blame him but he couldn't encourage him too. Especially, if he, himself, was a part of the menu.

He had known the moment he looked at his eyes that he was Asian. A Hun, dangerous warrior from the East mountains. He had seen a lot of them back in his tribe. They were famous for their fighting skills and their bloodlust. A legend said they drink their horses' blood before the battle. They were even capable of eating their enemies' corpse. They were said to be so tough that the average women could die giving birth to a Hun. Tristan didn't really believe in all those tales. But what he knew for certain was that in every story you found some truth made to keep men careful.

The boy turned his back against them. But, like Tristan, he was listening to the animate conversation between the knights. He was so angry with himself that he had difficulty in breathing properly. He had been caught by the stupid Romans, no less. It was a shame they didn't kill him for his stupidity because if he had some weapons right now he would have commit suicide. He couldn't believe this Arthur wanted him to fight for him. In no way, he would work for the Romans. He had already done it once; he could not look himself into a mirror. His father was a Hun. Hun never yielded. They never gave in to people's wills. But, he had been naïve and desperate. They had used him. He would never forgive. In Huns' society there was no place for forgiveness. When a mistake was made, you couldn't come back to them. He listened to the knights' murmurs. They were afraid of him. Some of them were fast asleep. Bors and Braden's loud snoring filled the room like music. A really bad music so! They were soon joined by Dagonet, Percival, Aglovale, Oran and young Finn.

As a part of the three recruits promised by Marcus, there was the 12 year-old Galahad. He took a seat on a cot next to a boy with honey blond hair. Gawain was busy imitating one of Marcus' soldiers when they found out the boy had a voice. He screamed suddenly like a girl ducking just in time to avoid the pillow the now-not-sleeping Duncan threw at him.

Laugher filled the air momentarily covering Bors's snoring. As for Bors, he could keep sleeping through a storm or a Woads' invasion, he wouldn't budge until morning. Aggravain, who looks very much like Gawain added to the tale of his big brother.

"They say, they know how to talk with wolves!"

"Bollocks!" Blaez cursed as he pulled his fair hair in a ponytail to sleep earning sneers from Lancelot. "As though Tristan knows how to talk with that stupid bird of his…"

But a growl from the dark corner of the room prevented Blaez and his big mouth to elaborate on the subject. He shrugged. Tristan was awake and spying. What else was new?

"I heard at the tavern some guy saying that he is a prince!"

"I didn't heard that tale", Lancelot said with a mocking frown.

"You were too busy licking that barmaid's neck. You couldn't have heard anything." Gawain answered back with a knowing smile.

"They said he killed his own mother so that the soldiers wouldn't rape her.", Duncan said as an afterthought before returning to his sleep.

All the knights fell silent at this. This statement brought back memories of home which neither one of them knew how to deal with. They were trying to remember their own mother.

"They drink blood too," Galahad murmured, scared that the boy might cut his tongue during his sleep.

"Again, this is all trash! Blaez replied angrily glancing at the motionless body of the Hun. "I said if he drinks blood why is he so damn ugly and small? Blood is life! It should make you stronger! "

"But he…hhe… is sssst-… strong!" Galahad stammered anxiously. You should have seen him fight with this Roman last week!

"Perhaps he had never found a challenge! Don't worry young one! He will find more than he bargained for with me!" Lancelot bragged blatantly with one of his common smiles. "You should have seen my first fight with Bors. Since then, he always goes to sleep with birds, poor old man!"

Callan and Andreas laughed at Lancelot' s boasting remembering pretty well the fight and the way Bors had knocked him out with one powerful punch.

"Shouldn't you be asleep?" asked a voice from the entrance of the dorm. "We have a long journey tomorrow, and especially an early call."

They all turned to see Arthur.

"Yes, right ", scoffed Andreas. "Like we could sleep with the monster."

"He is not a monster", said Arthur sternly. "I believe you are Knights and not girls. To be scared of a young boy is pointless."

Andreas had the good sense to bend his head ashamed.

"But what tell us he will not take advantage of our sleeping state to cut our throats mercilessly?" Lancelot insisted exchanging one of his trademark smirks with his commander.

He was always the one to make things difficult, thought Arthur as he crooked a smile to the cocky Samartian.

"He wouldn't" assured Arthur before leaning over the Hun and put a blanket over his shoulders.

He was finally asleep, he thought, letting go off a sigh.

"First of all, I trust him the same way I trust all of you. And after, the punch Tristan gave him, I believe he is in no condition to fight. I have his gloves and his bag. He is practically naked with no weapons. And more importantly, I would never put one of my knights in danger, if I can help it."

They was no further discussion. They all found their cots silently.

"I know Tristan will keep an eye open" he added.

And the Roman could have swear he have seen the scout grin in the dark.

There was only one still standing, eyes focused on the boy's back. Galahad. Arthur let out a deep breath. He wouldn't do the boy any good if he tucked him into bed. None good at all! Fortunately he was spared the decision when Gawain and Aggravain who had pushed their bed together, pulled the wavy dark-haired boy between them.

"You will sleep with us. So that if the monster wakes up bloodthirsty…" Begin Aggravain, dead serious.

"He will attack the smallest first. It would be you. That will give us time to wake up and fight." finished Gawain with a logic that only he and his brother could understand.

But Galahad heard the dry tone in their voice. And he had been comforted by those two. He was really happy to not be alone anymore.

Arthur watched their display with amusement. He winked at Tristan sitting in the dark corner because he knew the young scout was very much awake. He took the torch with him when he stalked out plunging the room in darkness.

**N/A**: **Short chapter, I know! It was just a glimpse in the knights' state of mind. Let me know what you think !**


	4. Riding session and Hunting duty

**Un Royaume aux dessus des nuages, par delà les monts de la destinée et les rizières de sang**

**Disclaimer: **Don't own anything but my own characters...

N/A: Thanks for all your kind reviews. Camlann and Skystrike26, it really means something to me.

Lady Scarlett, your French is not bad at all. You're totally correct. The title means « A Kingdom above the Cloud beyond the mounts of destiny and the fields of blood. » You're amazing! What else can you do! If you can sing too, I will be totally jealous of you, dear Morganna.  
I really like Attila and the Hun's legend. The amazing thing is that all these great men lived in the same era. Attila's death matches the beginning of the knight's journey.

3. Riding session and Hunting duty

To say it was early, it would be an understatement. The sun had not risen yet but all the knights were awake and prepared to go. They were gathered in front of the gates saddling their horses and exchanging jokes. Arthur had already sent Tristan, Bors and Braden ahead to scout the area.

"Arthur, I hope you will travel fast and easily. And I hope, my young friend, you will come to your senses on the road to the Wall."

Arthur smiled slightly to the Roman commander. He turned in time to see a soldier kneeling in front of the Hun to free the boy of his chains. He was not the only curious because all the eyes were directed to the young boy. Melan walked toward them, each of his steps being hesitant because of the wooden bucket he was holding. He wasn't as strong as the others. His weapon of choice was the bow and his hands weren't used to heavy tasks. But Melan never complained, he was as strong-willed as he was kind. Right now, he wanted to help the Hun and eventually befriend him. He was going to do just that. He always found his way into people's heart. That was the gift the gods gave him. He put a wary hand on the boy's shoulder. And the Hun seemed to arise at that and looked at Melan's hands with a deadly stare. Arthur was already on his way but Melan held up his hand stopping him on his tracks. He showed the boy a container of water.

"This is for you so you can wash yourself…" he explained making a gesture to his face. He looked thoughtful for a moment gauging the younger boy's reaction. A strand of honey brown hair was caught in the breeze revealing the sincerity in his hazel eyes. Melan smiled shyly and added. "Or drink if you want. You must be thirsty."

The Hun eyed the water suspiciously but Melan was right, he was beyond thirst at this point. He couldn't remember when he had a drink or when he had eaten something. Yesterday evening he had refused Arthur's hospitality. He had refused the broth they gave him. He had promised himself he would not beg. Never. And he had almost managed to forget the hunger.

At this point though, he would happily drink some horse's blood. He kneeled slowly in front of the pail but he couldn't resist any longer and he dived into the water to quench his thirst.

Arthur met Marcus's gaze with a smug grin.

"It seems that the little man is not a spirit after all!" Lancelot teased but he got off his horse nonetheless.

He walked to the duo cautiously; it wouldn't do them any good to scare the boy off. He looked like a wild stallion. He caught the boy's attention by crouching down in front of him. The curly black-haired man eyed the water like he was indeed interested. After a moment the Hun gave up the large wooden spoon. Lancelot took a sip then he search in his pocket for something to eat. Bors and Braden had been extremely hungry today and nothing was left of their breakfast. But Lancelot had managed to save extra bread. He took a last bite and held it out to the boy. And the Hun took the bread gingerly, thinking that if they wanted him dead they could have killed him by now. However, he did not abandon his angry stare.

"You really don't have to say thank you!"

Lancelot said as he went back to his own business, frowning and pretending to be offended.

"The boy had no mount. How will he travel?" Dagonet abruptly asked to Arthur.

"I don't want to travel with him", Galahad said with an alarm look.

"Yes, I'm sure he doesn't want to travel with a whiny thing like you too." Duncan replied none too gently. Galahad just shrugged and continued his wailing.

"Perhaps he doesn't even know how to ride."

Arthur sent a silent plea to Marcus. The roman commander just laughed.

"You're jesting, my friend. You think I will give the bane one of my horses… "

But a soldier leaned against him and whispered in his ears. A devious smile graced his round and sweaty face.

"Right, somebody has just informed me that we have the perfect royal mount for the Hun prince."

Right on cue, a squire and a black untamed stallion came into view. He stood high above the head of the squire. He had the lean muscles of a fantastic runner. He raised his head high with arrogance and his nostrils flared widely in annoyance. His thick black robe was troubled by one white spot on his snout like a crown. His hooves stamped on the ground sending dust in the air. He kicked away the squires with one blow of his strong hooves. The man stumbled on the floor avoiding at the last seconds another blow. Another squire caught the reins but had the same problems to contain the horse's fury. The Hun swallowed his saliva with difficulty trying hard to not let somebody see his actual state of panic. Water, Horses and Romans were the three things he hated the most in this hell he lived in. The beast looked crazy. There wasn't another word that came in his mind. The horse snorted viciously like it was about to crush one of the squire. No, like it was about to kill everything who came across him. He mentally reminded himself that he was a Hun and the Huns could ride. Horses were part of their tradition. It was in his blood. But how it came and he couldn't think of a horse without flinching slightly? Memories of old time assailed his mind as he took a step back.

"_He is not tamed!" The eight-year old prince yelled to the crowd of Huns. And people howled back and roared with laughter. He scanned the crowd searching for familiar faces. His siblings, the younger ones, were gathered around the concubines. Miko and Fatia were fighting over a rag doll. Bleda-san and Batur, the twins, were telling some jokes to the group. Talika was busy rubbing Kujila's long braid of dark hair under the oil of a lamp, dangerously close to Lupa's candles, whilst Kujila, Lysiane and Shana were appraising the young soldiers, between fits of giggles. His mother was sitting alone not far from Attila in the background. She wore a white and golden dress and a white fur on her delicate shoulders. A tiara in diamonds and golden amber crowned her noble head. She was by far the prettiest woman of his father's harem. Then, their gazes met and she offered him a faint smile. She nodded confidently to give him some strength. But he knew she was as worried as him. _

_His father was sitting on his throne with seven of his oldest brothers but Keda wasn't there. He was the really one who matter to him and he wasn't there. He searched for Keda in the animated horde but he couldn't find his beloved brother. _

_And then, Diggizikh, the second son of Attila, a giant with brute force led his reluctant adversary by the bridle on the field. The dark brown stallion entered the arena raising clamors from his people. The beast faced him pounding along the sandy soil furiously daring the little prince to approach him. Attila smiled to his youngest son holding his wooden cup of wine high in his honour. It was the time for him to prove his value. And there was no doubt in his head that his kin will achieve this little trial. Attila stood proudly and this immediately silenced the crowd. He gave him a warm smile as he was trying to give his son some support. But the warmth never reached the boy's heart; he knew what his father really wanted. He wanted to demonstrate the strength of his line. Nevertheless the boy felt empty, weak and scared. And to make the matter worse, Keda was nowhere to be seen and right now, he couldn't help but feeling really alone. Attila took a sip of his wine and spat the red content on the ground and the trial began under the cheery cries of the Huns. He was going to ride this horse or die trying. _

He came back to reality rather brutally at the snide tone in Marcus's voice.

"This is Scourge, Arthur." Marcus announced on a mock note. "I had it for months and he has never been tamed. Doesn't he fit your scum prince's fancy?"

Arthur frowned. He didn't like to be mocked. But he decided to play with him. It was time to give Marcus a little lesson.

"Duncan, tame the beast." he ordered.

Duncan walked in front of the boy and to his surprise the Hun stood up immediately ready to follow the sarmatian. Duncan approached the stallion. He was fuming conspicuously shaking his head, neighing nervously, stomping the ground with his hooves menacingly.

"He's a beauty definitely." he noted with appreciation and admiration obvious in his voice and he was not talking about the boy. "Without a doubt, he's royalty."

The Hun looked at Duncan with a scowl never leaving his face. And the sarmatian smiled inwardly. It reminded him of Tristan in his inexpressiveness. They both seem to have only one facial expression.

"He is nervous, lad. He doesn't know you. You have to be gentle with him and introduce you properly."

He took the squire's place and the stallion jumped in frenzy. Duncan just kept his usual calm trying to hold back the animal simply by whispering sweet words of nothing in his ear like what he would do to a lover. He reached for Scourge's neck and stroked it gently while the stallion shook his head furiously refusing Duncan's attention.

He was surprised when he felt a hand on his arms.

"What do I have to do?" the boy asked raucously. His voice only served to upset the horse.

Duncan sniggered. Did the boy know the meaning of the word gentle?

"Come on and stroke him softly, for him to be calmed. He has to know he is safe with you. So you can ask him to carry you."

Strangely enough the boy obeyed to Duncan. He caressed Scourge's beautiful fur with care. Finally the stallion seems to calm. But Duncan was not fouled.

It was recollecting his strength before striking again, just like what the boy had done yesterday.

"Look little man, this part you have to do it by yourself. We have no time to teach him properly. I believe, if he is to be yours, you have to prove that you worth him. What's your name?"

Almost without thinking, the Hun answered shortly.

"Tanjin"

"Ready to ride?" the samartian asked with an ironic smile.

Tanjin nodded as Duncan saddled Scourge with expertise. He kneeled to help the boy but Tanjin jump rashly on the horse back surprising the stallion. Duncan didn't have time to grasp the bridle before the little man and the wild steed went out of reach. He shook his head. The boy was stubborn and impulsive, a pretty good combination for "nearly-getting-myself-killed" type of guy. He would be perfect as a knight.

Arthur moved towards him. His eyes were focused on the rodeo scene in front of him.

"You are sure it is safe?"

"No. " Duncan answered frankly.

"But who cares?" Lancelot's voice was heard behind them. "It is so fun! "

Arthur rolled his eye but he chuckled a bit.

"The boy is good." Duncan pointed with a quick nod, just at the moment when Tanjin was thrown out of his saddle and landed roughly on the ground. Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, maybe not so good" Duncan acknowledged sheepishly.

Tanjin stroked his sore muscles but he wasn't quite ready to forfeit. He had already done it once. He could ride it again. Give him time and he would succeed. He always did.

_For what seemed to be the hundredth time, Tanjin fell roughly again on the sandy ground. To worsen his humiliation, that time he had landed at the foot of his father's throne. He heard indistinctly the rash laughter of his brothers._

_His face was bruised. His hands were bloody. He was covered with dirt. He choked on the metallic taste of his blood in his mouth. Tears run down his cheek in desperation. His humiliation was complete. He wiped them away with the back of his left hand and tried to stand with no success. _

_He vaguely heard his mother standing for him._

"_Attila, he is too young!" she pleaded fervently. "It will kill him!"_

"_Sissy roman whore!" grumbled Rugha loud enough so all his brothers could hear. They all find it hilarious and Warwulf laughed the loudest. Nobody could tell for sure toward whom, Tanjin or his mother, this curse was directed. _

_Attila glanced at his sons and his sixth wife. They sobered immediately. He turned to Olivia first._

"_Do not question me woman!" he warned her with a growl. _

_Olivia fell wisely back on her chair. Her hands were shaking as she could barely control her suppressed rage. She never looked at her son again, in fear; his sight will tear a heart apart. The Khan turned to Rugha and Warwulf. _

"_You shall fear my blow, Rugha, and never attempt to draw my wrath on you! I don't think you want to be at the end of my sword." he told him coldly._

_Rugha fell immediately silent bending his head down like being ashamed. But he was secretly cursing the roman bitch. _

_Attila sat down heavily on his throne. His face was a mask of deception and sadness. _

"_Stand up, Tanjin! If you have to die here, you will do it!" he ordered._

"_Or if you do prefer me to pamper you like the girls, I will do it with my dagger in the other hand, son!" _

_Tanjin frowned. Attila wouldn't kill him, would he? His father didn't mean it, did he? Oh dear lord Mars! He gathered all his strength left and get to his feet clumsily. He wiped some of his blood on his tunic and approached the vindictive stallion again. _

_Suddenly, they all heard gallops across the plain before they could make out the silhouettes of the hundred soldiers who were coming toward them. _

"_Keda-Kai, Attila'**oÐul is back**" Announced in hunnish Attila's bodyguard and most trusted friend, Chen-zicgk. He was often called eagle-eyed because of his ability to see far away behind the line of the horizon. Warwulf grumbled something under his beard and began to stand. _

"_Stay!" his father ordered. "After all, you were the one to suggest I shall send him to raid Claudius and his allies." _

"_I just wanted to prove my point, father! This particular roman cannot be killed. He is a weasel and had too many allies in the Goths ranks."_

"_You're a coward. You're not a leader." Attila said disdainfully. "That's why you will never be the first!" _

_Warwulf flinched considerably under his acid tongue. But he didn't answer back; it would only serve to upset Attila more._

_Keda's horse soon stamped the soil of the arena. A squire ran to the prince to try to calm Tanjin's wild beast. But all that the little boy could see and even think of at this very moment was that Keda was there. He knew he would come for him. He was too far to hear their conversation but he could see Keda. And that was all that mattered. He sprinted to his soon-to-be faithful and loyal mount. He would ride. He knew he could._

_Keda abruptly stopped in front of the throne. His horse was edgy, his muscles remembering all too well their tremendous race to the Hun's capital. He glared at Warwulf and Rugha with fury plainly written in his light brown eyes. If a look could kill, they would have been dead by now. He leaned on his horse laboriously. Pain shot in his left arm and he reined his black horse to face the khan. They all gasped when they witness the damage done to his left arm._

_Keda's arm was mangled and some of his fingers were nearly severed from his hand. The bones of two of them were distorted, and his thumb was also nearly torn off. Both arms and legs sported bite marks where his armours had failed to protect him. The bleeding had mostly stopped, and he was partially tended. But the damage was done._

"_They had dogs." Keda spat with venom in his voice, leading his horse forward so they could have a better view of the bite marks. "I lost hundred of my men yesterday. How are you brothers? Do you enjoy your stay here? And you father did my actions provide you with some satisfaction?" He wiped some dry blood off his face with his right arm and spat on the ground. _

_His eyes travelled the arena and he froze when he saw Tanjin's bruises. _

"_I told you he wasn't ready!" he growled to Attila. _

"_Rein your temper, Keda!" his father said sternly. "You're in no position to tell me what to do! I presume seeing your loss, you have failed me."_

_Keda snorted disrespectfully and spat again the blood from his mouth._

"_You sent me to my death! You sent HIM to his death! Do you have no love left for US, father? He is far too young!"_

"_Is it Tanjin's cause? Or is it yours, you're pleading, son?" _

"_He is far too young and you know it! He can't win! He is not ready!" he shouted back, gritting his teeth. "Rugha, is it another one of your brilliant idea?"_

_Rugha smiled wickedly, his deep-set eyes gleamed with a dangerous light. He was like a predator on his prowl. _

"_Sneaky rat! Vulture! One day, I will wipe that smirk off your face, for that I'm sure!_

"_Sons!"_

"_I will bathe in your blood, brother!"_

"_Are you challenging me in front of our Khan?" Rugha asked heatedly. He knew Keda was in no position to fight. It would be easy for him to take the advantage. _

"_I'm challenging you in front of the world! I'm sick of your schemes! By Mars's willpower, this has to stop! " _

" _Rugha, Keda, stop your useless bickering! Nobody will fight today!" Attila snarled back._

_Keda groaned again, this time from physical pain. He leaned on his saddle, his head tilted heavily on the right side. The slow process of healing had started, though the dark circles under his amber eyes gave away his weariness. Olivia rose from her chair, her face blank from emotion. _

"_He is badly injured, my Khan. He is losing too much blood." she told Attila, reaching his shoulder to catch his attention. . "He could lose his arm…" _

_His gaze softened immediately and he nodded to his wife. She called for Lupa, the royal healer. And she climbed down to meet Keda. He was searching for something in his travel bag. Finally with a triumphant growl, he held up the head of Claudius for all to see. He threw dejectedly the offended limp at the foot of his treacherous brothers. People cheered him like a hero. He bent over his horse, as his strength faltered once more. He slid from his saddle slowly. But before his body could touch the ground, Tanjin was there to catch him. Nobody have time to notice that he had managed to mount the wild horse and ridden swiftly to Keda's side. Because the little boy wasn't strong enough to support the weight of his beloved brother, they both lost their balance and tumbled on the ground. By that time the crowd was delirious and scream their name in the arena. Attila joined them on the ground. He crouched in front of them both. He kissed their foreheads, each one by turns, his eyes showing the extent of his happiness._

"_I'm so proud of you. You never cease to amaze me! You never disappoint me!"_

_Rugha slumped back on his chair, his fist clenched in frustration. _

Give him time and he will succeed. He always did. Even if he always had the help of his brother before. But what mattered was that he always did.

After almost an hour of struggling for Scourge, numerous falls and new bruises for his new master, the first one seemed to wear out. Scourge went down on his knees decided not to move again. Duncan smiled widely. It seemed that the little man had balls. He was also obstinate. Two qualities Duncan had a high regard for.

"We're ready." he announced to Arthur.

"Boys, it's time to go home" shouted the half-Roman.

He bided Marcus goodbye, mounted Ahmar and rode first line with Lancelot and Percival.

Soon enough they met their scouts who rejoined their rank. Tristan, however, decided to not ride alone for the first time and travel along Melan, close to the Hun boy. He saw Tanjin trying to stay on the saddle as his horse rode full speed along with Duncan. Now that he could have a good look at him, he could see that he was probably no more than 14 years old. Nevertheless, there was something odd in his juvenile feature. Something was amiss. He didn't know what yet. But he was now determined to find out.

Tanjin saw Duncan trotting gracefully in his direction. He couldn't help but groaned inwardly. They weren't supposed to be nice to him. He observed the rider on his side with envy. It was as if Duncan and his horse were the same entity. He was the best rider he had ever seen. He was sure Duncan could sleep on his horse, and nonetheless reach safe and sound his destination.

On the other hand, Scourge was the most uncooperative horse he had ever been given the opportunity to ride. The beast was insane and evil. He was sure Scourge was deliberately trying to kill him. He hated horses. He didn't have any luck with them. His father and his brother had tried to teach him one or two things but he always ended up getting hurt. And he always ended with the nervous stallion or the crazy mare. It was hopeless. Why did he mount then, someone may ask? It's easy. The boy had pride. It would be a shame for him to let this samartian semi-man surpassed him in skill. Even if he died trying, he would learn. By the way, was that a new punishment the roman commander inflicted on him for what he had done to his men? It was certainly working. He leaned against the horse neck listening the blood pumping fast in Scourge's vein. He was hungry now. Would Scourge be offended if he took a bite? No, the beast was already mad; it would be a bad move. He thought shaking his head trying to wake from his dazed state, desperately fighting to keep his eyes open. He felt ill for a second but he recovered quickly.

His father would have laughed seeing him like this, grasping the reigns for all it was worth. His father would have been able to break the horse. He would have had the Roman's heads. He wouldn't have been caught off guard by mere soldiers. He held back his tears with a frustrated moan never seeing the look of understanding in Duncan's wise eyes, neither the piercing eyes of a scout on his back. Men don't cry and princes never show weaknesses.

He heard the soft voice of Melan, the healer, telling a story about his home to other boys riding besides him. And he let this voice soothe him for the rest of the journey.

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The sun, about to set, shed deep orange and red light through the trees behind the knights. They had entered the forest earlier and had found an area cleared from stones, big enough to install a camp for the night. All the knights were busy doing something. Dagonet, Danis and Duncan were nursing the horses. Bors was lighting a fire with Blaez's help. Oran who had been on the cooking duty list since he arrived, was preparing the broth. Gawain, Galahad, Agravain were searching for woods. Braden had been scouting the area, scanning the place for woads. Finn was sound sleeping because of his recent illness. Arthur and Lancelot were discussing strategic tactics and ultimately were arguing with each other. Tristan was petting his bird before letting him go for the night. The others were sparring or playing in a backyard. Noises of swords smashed together broke the peace of the forest.

Sitting against a chunk of tree, Tanjin was observing. He had not proposed to help and they did not ask. It was a good thing actually because he had decided to be off service ad vitam eternam. He wouldn't stay a slave any longer. He scanned the area for the man named Arthur. When he found him, he smiled devilishly. Arthur was the one who had his bag and weapons. And Tan'jin was determined to have them back. Killing Arthur would prove a rather difficult task because the man was never alone. But if he played his card correctly, he could have a good kill tonight and be free tomorrow. As for the knights he didn't worry much, except for the watcher. He was so nosy, always watching Tanjin's back. He had never seen a man so alert before. He looked at Tristan who was patting his hawk's throat softly. And his green eyes met his dark eyes behind a curtain of wild black hair. Yes, it was a rather difficult task!

Galahad came back shortly from his errands. He was in a foul mood. Gawain had made him pick up twice his weight in wood. And he and Agravain had let him do all the work. Gawain gave him plenty foolish reasons as to why he had to work more than them. His irritation grew more and more when he noticed that the Hun bastard had done nothing in their absence. This was wrong, thought Galahad. And they said he was being the whiny brat most of the time. True, he complained a lot, but always for a good reason. Bumping into Bors's sweaty back, he let out a yell when one of the chunk he was carrying fell on his foot. Here there was another good reason.

"Shut it up!" Duncan groaned.

Gawain and Agravain were laughing heartily and they were soon joined by the rest of the group.

"When I die", Galahad retorted as he took a seat around the fire, "let me remember to do it silently so as to not disturb your sensitive ears, horseman."

"Oh the day you'll die, me and my horse we dream about it every bloody night!" Duncan snorted.

"Damn, it hurts!" moaned Galahad, watching his foot taking a blue colour.

"People, Galahad is dying!" Blaez sneered in return, "Could somebody finish him off so we can eat and go to sleep?"

"Hasn't Tristan gone for hunting yet?" Gawain asked changing the topic, saving Galahad from answering the fourteen-year old firestorm. Blaez was currently busy playing with a wooden stick in the fire. Now, wouldn't be a good time to contradict him. But as Galahad never care if now is an appropriate time for anything, he mumbled a curse under his breath but fortunately nobody heard him because they were all deep engaged in a conversation around hunting. They said Tristan was the best hunter. Gawain wanted to go and see it for himself.

"No" replied the scout behind him. "I'm going now. I won't be late."

"Take the boy with you," said a deep voice behind them.

Emerging from the woods at this instant, Arthur and Lancelot were walking to them.

Tristan frowned but he shrugged it off.

"Galahad, are you ready?" he asked hastily, already on his tracks.

Arthur stopped him knowing perfectly the way Tristan elude things.

"Not this boy, Tristan."

Tristan smiled grimly before turning to Gawain whose eyes were wide from hope and eagerness.

"Gawain?"

"Tristan" admonished Arthur with a frown.

He knew Tristan was playing with him. Even though there was no trace of mischief in his eyes like Gawain or Lancelot, he knew the scout had a rather unusual sense of humour.

"Yes."

It's not that Tristan nourished a grudge against the boy. Other than distrust, he felt nothing for the boy. But he hesitated in taking him to the hunting mission and let his back unprotected to a guy who seems in love with blood. Just by looking in his eyes, he knew that Tan'jin was plotting. He knew for certain that he had something in his mind…

Something that involved Arthur, a blade, and the Roman's neck... Probably not in this order. And because this was another reason to watch him, he finally nodded to Arthur. And the Roman made his way to the rogue knight.

Tan'jin was already smiling when he heard that the watcher would go hunting. And when he saw Lancelot took a seat with Bors, his heart nearly jumped in his chest from anticipation. This was just too good to be true. The moon had not risen yet and there was little light. The darkness would provide him with the perfect disguise. But then Arthur made his way toward him and he sighed in deception.

"You will go with Tristan and Gawain to hunt."

"No!" He protested strongly.

Arthur frowned a bit and gave him a curious look.

"You mean with no, that you don't know how?"

"No, I mean I don't want to!" he snarled back with insolence.

Silence fell upon the group. You could listen to the heartbeat of the forest.

"I'm not asking you Tanjin. When I say: go somewhere, you simply go. I'm your leader. You will do what I say. " explained Arthur slowly.

"You're not my leader, Roman." Tanjin spat haughtily. 'You're nothing to me. "

Arthur clenched his jaw and took a step forward. The boy was difficult. It almost reminded him his first days with Lancelot, minus the charm and the teasing part.

Tanjin jumped on his feet prepared to fight back. But Arthur didn't move further.

"You think I'm going to beat you till submission. You are nowhere near the truth, boy. Look at these men." he said pointing to the group. "They are all loyal to me because they decided to, because I respect them. I'm not saying I will give you a purpose. It seems you have plenty of these, firmly lodged in this little head of yours. But sometimes in Epithelium I've mistaken you for an honourable man and not a barbarian fiend. I beg your pardon for that. Go, kill, and be happy.

"Will you let me go?" Tanjin asked his voice trembling with emotion.

"Yes. But if you go, they will not let you get away with your crimes. They will hunt you, judge you and condemn you. I know Marcus pretty well. He never forgets. You will have to hide. If you think that what I have to offer is worse than this, feel free to go. "

Tanjin fell silent an instant. He bent his head to think. With a deep breath he asked.

"What do you have to offer, roman? "

"Just this." Arthur replied showing him the group of knights. "But much more will be explained when we reach the wall."

"I don't have many choices." He finally said.

"Yes, you have." Lancelot replied deadly serious. "You could go home."

"I don't have a home anymore". he answered back with a blank expression. He raised his head, his green eyes looked almost black. "What do you want for dinner?"

Arthur smiled.

"Go with Tristan, he will show you."

Tan'jin moved toward the scout but he stopped dead on his tracks, like he had forgotten something.

"My weapons… Can I have them back?

Arthur was about to answer but Lancelot was too quick.

"Actually I took them for my personal use. That's a deadly blade you've got, boy. Any knights would be jealous of your little arsenal! "

Lancelot smirked. Tanjin frowned, jumping back in his defensive mode.

"Oh for god's sake, Lance, can't you just shut up for one second? Give the man a break!" Bors' thundering voice shouted back as he stood pulling on his breeches. "I need to piss." He groaned motioning towards a range of tree far from the fire. "So much down there"

They erupted in laughter at Bors' little rituals.

"Yeah, Lance, stop teasing the boy." Braden scolded, giving Lancelot his best paternal look and trying to keep a straight face at the same time.

"You will get him again in a foul mood." Duncan added. "And he will get the horses nervous with his creepy voice."

"It's not my fault if his weapons were made for the best warrior. It's not my fault if I' m the best of you all. "Lancelot said nonchalantly.

Arthur gave him an aggravating look. He turned to Tan'jin.

"Go fetch your weapons, boy."

Trying not to show too much delight at the simple mention of the word weapon, Tan'jin walked to his large bag among other things and retrieved his Hun bow. But it was to no avail, just to touch the wood and the string made of horsehair, the symbol of his clan, the royal markings carved on the handle; the ghost of a smile graced his feature. Praying the gods that nobody had seen him, he followed Tristan and Gawain in the wood. But the scout had seen it all and he commented coldly.

"You seem really happy to have them back?

It wasn't really a question because Tristan wasn't really waiting for an answer. He just wanted Tanjin to know that he knew.

Tan'jin shrugged and followed closely behind them. Yes, he loved his weapons and so what? Was there something wrong with that, damn scout!

Soon enough Gawain broke the tense silence by telling some jokes about a rabbit and some midnight snacks. Tan'jin didn't understand half of it. When the moment came to laugh, Gawain was the only one to enjoy his story. At least he was not the only one who hadn't paid attention to the blonde boy, Tanjin thought with an inward smile.

Finally, Tristan seemed to have found a target. He reached silently for his bow, pulling back the string. And with a deadly accuracy, he fired and the arrow found home in a little rabbit. Gawain didn't lose time to go and get their dinner. The blonde boy smiled. It was true, Tristan was good. With two more, they could call it a night. And it was then that he noticed for the first time that Tan'jin had disappeared. And by the look in Tristan's eyes, he noticed it too.

* * *

**N/A: **If someone asks why the names of Attila's offspring sound so strange and not really hunnish, I apologize. I admit more often than not that they are totally imprecise and had nothing to do with history. _All the characters you don't recognize are original._ I tried to be in research mode while writing this fic, but the fact is that history was really cruel to the Huns. And there is practically no material for Attila and his people. As for their language, the Roman and Byzantine ambassadors who spoke or had some knowledge of hunnish, never recorded their knowledge of that language. Selfish bastards! This absence of knowledge left posterity to quarrel over the ethnic affiliations of the Huns. 

For the little set of history there was lot of Hun line who descended mostly from the Mongols of the Asians steppes. (That's why I gave Attila the title of Khan, or King, it depends…) Attila and his family is considered, with little certainty, to be the western extension of the royal Xiong family centered around Karaganda, in Kazakhstan. And Attila build the capital of his empire in actual Hungary. These tribespeople achieved superiority over their rivals (most of them highly cultured) by their splendid state of readiness, amazing mobility and weapons like the Hun bow. ( who look very much like the sarmartian bow.) The acquisition of non-Hunnish names by Huns comes from the practice of the conquerors acquiring wives among the conquered people. The offspring of these unions often acquired, at least in part, the language and cultures of their mothers. This makes the identification of the origin of any person problematic.

In my world (little miggy's fictionnal wonderworld) that's what happened to Tanjin and his siblings. Attila was really keen on choosing his wives among the different people he submitted. He had 35 children because he was sexually hyperactive (and they had not even invented Viagra! What a man! ) Surely he had lost some children in toddler age but he had fathered and recognised 35.

I want to apologize too for the riding scene. (I feel guilty for everything today! It must be the moon! ) Very long time ago, in a beautiful island in the Caribbean Sea named Guadeloupe, little Miggy did a first steps on a horse. She was in love with Hiawatha, this white little pony Shetland her dear daddy rent for her. But something bad happened to little Hiawatha and he left for the special cloud nine for pony only. And little Miggy never saw him again and she was so sad, she refused to ever approach a horse again. But that doesn't mean she stopped to love them. Sigh I'm babble girl! All in all I wanted to apologize because I never tamed a horse. And I don't have any idea how they really do it. I think it takes much time and much patience but for the plot, I couldn't wait. I hope that it stays believable. If not, it would add some mystery and fantasy in this story. I wait for all your opinions, good or bad! I don't need reviews to post but I will love to hear what you think. So please leave something, anything at all! Please, please, oh please!

Merci beaucoup d'avance!


	5. Blind

**Un royaume au dessus des nuages…**

It's been a month since my last chapter and I'm so sorry for the lack of updates. I've been busy with my exams. And my dear computer let me down with no warning one Saturday. I lost most of my recent files: My KA story among other things. It took me quite a while to rewrite this chapter and I'm not sure I'm satisfied with it. I'm not sure I will ever be satisfied with it. So please be kind and review to let me know what you think about it.

**Lady Morgan: **You help me so much with this story I don't think I can repay you one day. So this chapter is dedicated to you. I hope you will like it.

**Camlann: **I just make the connection between you and one of my favourite KA story: The peril of the secrets. So I' m quite pleased with your review. Honoured, I would even say! Thanks for the support. And yes, Galahad is my favourite brat. In the movie, he looked quite selfish like only a child can be. But he has a really good heart, that's why they all loved him. He is the petulant child you have the tendency to spoil. I hope you will like the next chapters…

**Op:** Thanks for that great review! I really try to make it believable! And a good story for me goes with some research. So I'm really happy you find the result clever! I hope you will review this chapter because I already love you lol !

**Aleera**: Mon petit giminy, j'espère que tu nous reviendras vite. Tu nous manques sur MSN !

So here we are, just where we left it a month ago.

* * *

**Chapter 5 Blind**

Galahad reached for his woollen tunic. He stared at the firmament, scowling at the unsteady weather. Flashes of lightning streaked the dark sky. Loud rumblings thundered throughout the land, the sound faintly echoing on the ground beneath him. The atmosphere was cold and humid. A gust of wind moved the branches of the nearby trees, stirring to life the seemingly sleeping woods. The young boy paced anxiously, every now and then pulling his legs together like he was about to wet his pants. But still, Galahad refused to enter the wood to pee. He knew it was childish to be afraid of the dark and that the others would probably mock him if they knew. Still, he stayed too scared to move. Thinking of it, it wasn't really the obscurity that was frightening. There was something unhealthy in the air. He was on edge, sensing the malicious cloud shrouded the air. With a groan, he finally plopped himself around the fire.

"Why are they so long?" He asked the blonde figure who was currently dozing at his feet. Aggravain opened his eyes sleepily and wiped his mouth of drool.

"It's like the hundredth time you ask me the same question. And still, I don't have any answer for you." He told him wryly. He saw Galahad's body stiffened and he regretted immediately his harsh tone.

"You don't have to worry. They will be fine." He assured the young boy with a sympathetic look.

Galahad shrugged proudly.

"I don't worry. I' m hungry."

Moments later, he was back fidgeting on his sit again, scanning warily his surroundings, searching for any signs of Gawain or Tristan, or eventually the bane.

He was startled by a deep sarcastic voice in his ears.

"Aren't we a little bit scared?"

He turned to face Duncan. The rider sat around the fire not far from him, a satisfied smirk on his face. Galahad grunted annoyed and he engaged in a glaring contest with Duncan. Needless to say, Duncan was the last to laugh. Of all the knights, with the exception of the Hun-pain-in-the-ass, he was the one that infuriated him the most. Galahad bit his lips in order to rein his temper but it didn't take him long to find something nasty to retort. Fortunately, he was cut in the middle of his action by the entrance of two of his brother in arms. Callan and Andreas came back from the north hill where they were scouting. They were arguing heatedly with each other.

"I told you I heard something…" Callan was saying to a disapproving Andreas.

"You were dreaming! Or did you drink with Braden and Bors?" His companion asked ironically.

"I know what I heard, Andreas! It was strange but melodious at the same time… Like murmurs… It was a woman's voice."

"Superstitions!" called Andreas.

"I know what I heard… What I saw…You have seen those stones like me. I swear I saw four women there. "

"Back at the fort, I'll make sure, you never lack of gentle company! You certainly miss them!"

"What are you two talking about?" interrupted Danis, a little bit worriedly.

Danis was the smallest version of a twenty-year old knight. He was thin and not completely pubescent. He had a juvenile frame with a ridiculous goatee he dared called his beard. His wrists sported as many bracelets and keepers that his body could carry around, in addition to his heavy axe. He was shy by definition and nervous by necessity. And the others couldn't help believing that he was a little bit crazy too.

"Nothing." Andreas told him. Danis was superstitious to the core. He didn't want to alarm him with nothing but presumption.

"Nothing! We saw four witches at Stonehenge! " Callan replied quickly.

"What Stonehenge?" Asked contemptuously Blaez like he already knew he would not like the answer.

"It's a sanctuary for the Britons. Arthur asked us to inspect that area. I've seen nothing and nobody." Andreas answered with a sigh of exasperation. He emphasized the words on the last sentence. He was getting tired with this conversation. "If Callan could just let go…"

"Not only a sanctuary," Callan hastened to add. "The stones joined the forest on a path down the hill named _the _valley of no return. There are rumours that the Celts made sacrifices there."

"Yes, yes we're all in danger! We're gonna die tonight! Run before it is too late, insignificant creatures, worthless pagan!" Blaez exclaimed dramatically. "I don't believe in ghost, nor in anything that I didn't saw at least once. There are only men in this earth and they manage to achieve destruction pretty well by themselves. "

" Don't say this! You will anger the Gods!" Danis muttered, his hands shaking ostensibly.

" Do you see any gods here? Even Arthur's god let us do his dirty work on battlefield!" He said sardonically, a bitter laugh escaping his throat.

"I know… I know…" Callan said, nodding half-heartedly. "But I swear I saw something… It was strange. I don't like this place. There is something evil in these woods! In this land! I can feel it! " He started sharpening his broadsword frantically.

"The only thing evil here is probably our new barbarian "fiend"." Andreas said sarcastically, throwing a twig in the fire.

"Mock me all you want… I know we're not safe here! Something bad will happen! How can you explain all those things?" He said motioning their surroundings and Galahad followed his hands involuntarily. "A thunderstorm without rain! The horses' anxiety, Andreas... The whispers…"

Galahad stood, suddenly uncomfortable. But before he could walk away from them, Duncan snorted again.

"If I were you Galahad, I wouldn't venture too far from the camp. The Morrigans eat small boys for dinner."

"What are you talking about, Duncan ?" They all asked at the same time. Seven pairs of eyes gaped guardedly at the mischievous rider.

"You really have no idea!" He said.

Bors sat behind them, suddenly interested.

"The lad is right," He said pointing at Duncan. He leaned closer, whispering on a confidential tone.

"This forest is called Broceliande. Even the woads avoid this land. A legend says that a dark goddess walked through the woods at night. She kills every man she judges unworthy. It is a sacred place. A sanctuary for the Morrigans."

They all glanced around them like they expected to find the evil goddess there.

"The Morrigans?"

"Some says it's a clan of woads that defied Merlin's rule. Some says it's a tribe of wild women. Women warriors devoted to the war goddess, Morrigan. Some says it' a coven of priestess devoted to a very old cult." Duncan said before taking a sip of water in his flask.

" And you believe in what Duncan?" Blaez sneered. "Tell us…"

The rider tilted his head, his deep blue eyes staring at the hole in the flask. He smirked.

"In the version that scared the most my friend Galahad! I found this one highly entertaining."

Poor Galahad that wanted nothing more at that moment than to make himself invisible! But they all turned toward the youngest who by the time they finished their tales had wet his pants. They burst into laughter. However they all sobered pretty quickly when bad news spread around the camp like a plague. Finn was ill again…And that alone suffice to eat their good mood away.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

_I would hear the words of the Raven queen,_

_She who watches over all,_

_She who has many forms,_

_She who walks the warrior path,_

_Great Morrigan, Red queen!_

_Power of Raven be yours,  
Power of Eagle be yours,  
Power of the Fian._

_  
_Ranks of dark, heavy clouds were rolling in from the western shoreline, eclipsing the glowing moon. There was an ocean of trees as far as the eyes can see, skeletal shadows moving wherever the wind blows. The only thing still in the landscape was the massive menhir and dolmen which stood on top of the grassy hill. She was tense just like the weather outside. But it wasn't the darkness that made her tense. No, _The wild child _loved darkness. There was some mystery in it. Her eyes were well accustomed to it. If she could just shut all the sounds of the woods she could hear all sort of soft whispers and it soothes her wild spirit. She knew it was because of her initiation, but she couldn't help but find her newly acquired knowledge and skills amazing. The ritual had made her more receptive to the goddess's voice. She wondered if they were right, if it was really her destiny to become a priestess in the service of the great Huntress. She adjusted the hood on her head. It seems the wind had risen and changed direction. She poised her fist hard around the crystal quartz her mistress had given her. She watched as one of her new "sisters" lit some candles on the hard rock.

_  
Power of Storm be yours,  
Power of Moon be yours,  
Power of Sun be yours._

The girl was barely older than her but there was some boldness in her demeanour. She walked briskly around the altar. She kneeled before the mistress and muttered the invocation in rhythm. As though she sensed that she was under inspection the other girl stopped chanting, turning to face her, her fingers smeared with kermès. She raised an eyebrow at her, and the child felt a blush suffusing her cheeks. The other girl pushed away strands of icy blonde hair with a knowing smirk on her pretty face. Her hair was an enigma on their own. Not really blonde… Not really white. They shined with a silver colour under the fleeting moon. She looked like an angel under a snowstorm. She had very few clothes on her… Just a thin piece of brown tanned leather moulding her sensual curves, guarding her scarcely against the cold wind… S_nowblossom_… She remembered now… It was her name. She found herself drawn to the blonde priestess. Snowblossom… The name described her so well. She wanted to see more of the girl. She wanted to trace with her eyes all the furrows on her tan face. Though, she knew her sight, unlike the majority of people, improves in the dark, It was not just enough. She couldn't make out her high cheekbones or her dimples, or the light blue of her sparkling eyes. There were just too many colors she couldn't identified, shapes she couldn't make out, details that her treacherous eyes choose to leave out. She watched without really seeing as Snowblossom smudged her face with inky fingers drawing original pattern on her cheek. But the sweet child knew something just by intuition. Snowblossom looked way too enticing for a human being. Come to think of it, she looked way too enticing for a messenger of the goddess too.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

The luminous stars were hidden behind a curtain of grey clouds. The large trees rustled under a little wind that died immediately. Tanjin pulled back a rebellious strand of his ebony hair with a muffled groan. The hair on his skin rose each time the heavens voiced his discontent. He raised his head and stared at the sky, only half listening the blonde boy's incessant chatting. Gawain seems like he could talk forever without a need for an audience. Tanjin even doubted that Gawain needed to breath. There was no need to say that the scout was quiet much like himself. Although for his part, it was just an act. It was not because he decided to play by some of the roman's rules that all his plans of revolt were lost. He just needed sometime… Just give time and trust him he would make their life miserable. Trust him… or more specifically trust the Hun in him.

Overhead, the leaves whisked again and little puffs of dirt were blown in the air. Tanjin suddenly turned around as something caught his attention. There were sounds of splashing down a river nearby and for some reason he was attracted to it. He slowly began to walk away. Each of his steps was if not hesitant a little bit clumsy in the middle of the uninviting woods. He discovered a faint track that passed through the brush. By lengths and with much difficulty, he followed it until the splashing grew louder and he found himself almost atop a trickle of clear water. He heard a muffled noise and crawled behind some bushes. Alert, his hands automatically reached for his Hun bow. A smile of satisfaction tugged on his lips when out of nowhere a fawn and its mother came out. His stomach twisted at the sight. In some dark closet in his mind, he knew it was far more than he could eat in one week, but Tanjin's stomach was not the reasonable type. He could almost taste the juicy and tender flesh full of seeping life.

He could picture in his mind his never-ending chases with Talika around the royal kitchen. It would always smells raw meat, roses jam, sweet ale, red wine and honey cake… Leda, his great-grand-mother who was older than the oldest stone in Hungary used to rule the kitchen with an iron-wrinkled-fist and a strangely calculating and resourceful mind. As princes or furthermore as children , they had thousands dreams of conquests and they always began by the claim of the kitchen. Talika especially used to find it highly unfair that as princes they were not allowed to wander in the kitchen whenever it pleased them. He used to talk Tanjin into his plans to defeat their witch of a grand-mother. Unfortunately for them, Leda at the tender age of 84 was still a strong mind woman and Talika's plans always put them in trouble. No amount of pleading toward Attila could get them out of it and they ended punished by the cruel Leda ( and believe it or not she was far more cruel than her grand son and that's to say something). Her favourite punishment was to deny them food for two days. Not that Tanjin and Talika had ever stayed that long without food in the past, Keda was always there to make the punishment more bearable. Keda had never let Tanjin down until… If he was there, Arthur and his roman slave warrior would have been history. He shook his head in an attempt to clear his head of the memory.

He aimed carefully the fawn who was following his mother to the immense pool of water. He watched partly amazed how the two drink the sweet nectar of the lake. He closed his eyes for a second. He didn't seem to feel any particular remorse taking a baby from his mother. Deep in his heart, he knew he should. He knew he should honour the gods with the sacrifices. Hun respect blood. It was one of the pillars of their cultures. So Tanjin knew he should have prayed for the spirit of the fawn. But nothing came… His heart was devoid of any emotion. If possible, he wished someone had done the same thing for him so that he wouldn't be forced to travel alone in this life. No, so that he wasn't left alone in this god forsaken land. He aimed for the back of the neck. He wouldn't even feel the pain. He wouldn't even suffer when Death would claim him. He released the arrow and dexterity and a good amount of luck in the semi darkness drive it home. The little fawn went down without quivering. His mother was immediately by his side. She lay down against him, her nose nuzzled his neck and her tongue lapped his head. A slight pang of regret trudged his heart because still nobody deserves to be left alone. Then another memory hit him, more vivid this time… And a thousand time more painful.

_Tanjin felt something soft caressing his face and he moans in his deep slumber. _

"_Not now, mom! Not so soon!" _

_He registered that the soft caress on his face had moved to his chin and neck. It sent a frill down to his toe… How he like the patchouli and the amber scent of his mother… Except it wasn't the sweet scent of patchouli this time. A smell of sweat and honey cake…and wine… and high pitched fits of laughter… He frowned. _

"_Tanjin, wake up ! We're almost there! Wake up!"_

_He wakes up brutally, his hazy mind recognizing his best friend's voice. Talika's head was perched above him, so that the ten-year old was the first thing Tanjin saw when he opened his eyes. He was drowned under a waterfall of brown hair. He groaned as he reached with his hand to wipe his face of smelly locks. Not fast enough because Talika just jumped out of reach with a resounding laugh. _

"_Come on, you can not miss your first battle! What the others will think then ?" He grinned excitedly, his eyes twitching in mischief. "I cannot be brother with a coward!"_

_Tanjin sat up in the large bed made of furs, his eyes scanning lazily his surrounding. Something hit his face with strength and he look down to see a piece of clothes rolled in ball. He glared at his smirking brother but said nothing. He took the offending shirt. It was stained and it was far too big for him. It sniffed the clothes suspiciously and makes a disgusted face._

"_Talika, it's your old one! You have worn it for a month at least. It's not clean! It's smell like shit! You must have washed the stable ground, back home, with it for it to stench so bad. " _

_He said while finishing collecting his attire under the bed. He sat on the cot to put his boots, watching Talika pacing in the opening of the tent._

"_Since when do you have any conception in cleanness?" He said, his head sneaking past the entry, surveying the outside. "Please, you're as bad as me! Tanjin don't be fussy! Come on, we need to move on! _

_Tanjin sniffed the clothes a last time with an eyebrow raised hesitantly. Finally, he shrugged in defeat and put on the shirt not wasting any more time arguing with his well-known pig of a brother._

"… _Perhaps we could snatch a dagger in Tarkan's pack while we're at it!" He heard Talika suggest absentmindedly, like it was a mere thought crossing his dirty devious devilish manipulative mind. Tanjin stopped all his preparations._

"_Oh no ! I'm not going with you on that one! You're the safest road to trouble. I know you. And I know Tarkan. I have seen him train and he will cut us to pieces if he only knew that we want to steal from him!" _

"_It's not stealing! You always presume the worse of me! " He pouted his arms crossed on his chest. "We will just borrow it for a while. He's got so many…One less … One more! What's the matter?" _

"_He matters a lot when he will beat us senseless in front of the court. I don't want to be part of your scheme this time. It won't work ! Besides, we will not even going to fight!"_

"_Who say so!" Talika asked a self-righteous grin on his face. _

_Tanjin was about to remind him that their father had said so, but Talika shake his head mulishly and he just knew it was a lost cause. _

"_How can you be so coward and be our father's kin at the same time? Talika sighed frustrated. Nobody really understands him in this life. "Father will be proud of me because I always take initiative like the real prince I am."_

"_And like the king he is, he will take the initiative to wipe that smug grin of your face one more time!" Tanjin retorted._

_Talika waved him off._

"_You're such a girl, Tanjin!" He said lazily, stifling a yawn. Smiling inwardly, he counted to ten… And at five, the expected answer came. _

"_I'm not a girl! Tanjin snarled back, grasping Talika by his arm. "We have to go if we want a chance to catch Tarkan before he left. I hope for you that we'll not go through all this trouble for nothing. " _

"_I promise. It will worth it. Did I ever give you any reason to regret before?" He said with a broad smile. _

_Before Tanjin could give him a thousand one list of memorable souvenir he wanted to forget, the horn echoed in the valley. They ran out of the tent. _

_Attila had brought his family on a campaign in Siberia. The party consisted mainly of all his sons, from the first one Diggizikh to the last one Tanjin, and the elite of his army. The trip was destined to strengthen their mental. Teach them, effort and endurance; show them the weigh of their heir. Tanjin was barely eight years old at this time. Barely hold enough to travel in a carriage, barely hold enough to leave his mother's thighs, but his father had insisted and he had made it even if it was mainly thanks to Keda's attention. By the time they arrived, Tanjin didn't really understand the joy of war. He was excited beyond anything to go to war like a man but he wasn't really ready for the horrid pictures of death. He wasn't ready to face the consequences of it. He stared at the Hun army, watching proudly only as a seven-year old might at the shining swords and armour. From the top of the hill, the village seem irrelevant, a big spot in the white taiga. Minutes before the attack, it seems peaceful. Children were playing around the tent, women prepared the meal, and the men were tanning the leather. It was a common day in the life of those hunters. Until the King's voice rose in the plain ordering the charge. _

_As he watched the agitation overtaking the village, Tanjin felt like his blood had frozen in his veins._

He remembered so well how he wished that his mother had been there because war was scary. He just didn't know if he likes it yet. Rugha, who somehow had been left in charge of them, had told him coldly that he better open his eyes and watched. He had done just that… He had watched his father's sword split the air, Talika and the twins by his sides. They had watched with morbid fascination, as their father followed by an army of bloodthirsty warriors entered the seditious village that just didn't look as rebellious anymore. They still watched and listen attentively when Attila had ordered to destroy everything. Talika had taken his hand when Attila grasped a running woman by her arm and plunge his swords deep in her round belly. The daggers they had borrowed for the occasion were already forgotten. It had shaken them to see the woman crawled in the snow, gasping for air, still pleading for her life. His eyes diverted from them only to find more similar scenes. Every time he closed his eyes, it was there, burning its brand into his mind like acid on skin. He watched as the usually quiet Keda fight with graceful motions, mixed with a lethal precision. His eyes were different. They were empty of human emotion almost predatory. It was like he didn't recognize his brother anymore. He felt like it was imprinted in him for life. He didn't quite remember all the gory details of that day. He chose to forget years ago. He didn't want to think of what he still couldn't understand. Too many cries had filled his head… Feeling the warmth of the blazing village… Talika's almost frozen hand pressed down in his like a vice. The women that had tried to run away from his father and who had died in his hands... Her body he had thrown down like it was nothing but garbage. The satisfy grin of his brothers… And the pride he saw shining in his father's eyes… The cry of victory of the soldiers… Warwulf, forcing a frightened woman to kiss his bloodied lips one more time before he broke her neck… Keda…collecting the dead children so that they'd been the first to be burned… Keda who refused to meet his gaze... He remembered shivering as his eyes wandered in slow motion in what was left of the village, searching for nothing… Finding almost nothing… Embracing only death… When his hazy eyes met the glassy one of a dead child, he faltered, shaking uncontrollably. It was the first time he had seen so many corpses. And he had never been the same afterwards. It was like something in him died on that battlefield. It was like he could never be the same, after; he had seen the frozen land covering itself with red snow. The first time, Tanjin had heaved the entire content of his treacherous stomach on the ground. And the worse was when he had asked why the children… They couldn't fight back. Some of the dead was too young to even lift a sword. He had asked crying, anxious and confused at the same time. Why so much blood? And Attila had bend over him gently. His answer was short rather simple. There hadn't been any regret any shame in it. No one deserved to be left alone. It only serves someone's heart with anger, bloodlust and insane desire of revenge. Nobody deserved to be left alone. He hadn't understood that day but now it makes sense. So, he contemplated the idea of killing the mother too.

He wiped some unwanted tears. He will not cry not tonight nor tomorrow. He had matters more important at hand. He didn't want to remember and at the same time he was just as afraid to not remember. He was just as scared that one day his memory will fail him. That he will not remember his own mother. Olivia of Rome, The Stranger, the proud and feared roman princess… The mad roman witch some used to say. His father, a king feared by the Pope himself and respected in the entire continent… Keda… No wait, he won't think about them. It will only bring him back more harshly to the awful reality where he was left alone in this hell the Britons have the nerve to call a country. He didn't need to remember Kudjila, the prettiest daughter of the Khan. The way she used to comb her long and soft dark mane with a golden comb their father had given her. She was so vain, so mesmerized by her own beauty… Vanity that will finally seal her fate one day… But what Tanjin did remember about her, is that he used to love spying on her after a day full of his restless adventures with Talika and the twins. And when she was in a really good mood she held Tanjin's close to her and use her golden comb to tame his wild hair. The twins, Bleda and Batur used to follow Talika and him everywhere even if they were danger. They were the bravest pair of coward he had the pleasure to meet. There were sweet and easily scared and they had that strange ability to finish each other's sentences. They were amazing… But there was Lysiane too… Sixteen years old Lysiane never had a sweet word for anybody, except for the soldiers she used to court shamelessly. Tanjin remembered all too well the day Attila announced her wedding with Warwulf and she had run away for four days and Tanjin as young as he was, he was the one to find her and comfort her… Sure An'khara, and Shana had been there too. Roxane had joined them and danced for her and Savannah, in turn, had tried to make her smile with a story of Persia. Each day had been different back then. Very different indeed, he was happy.

Tanjin stood and ushered away the deer. He approached the fawn and kneeled next to his prey. His knife carved the beast methodically until his hunger got the best of him. So he sat on his heels and he began to eat on the spot, chewing on the raw meat with a smile of pure delectation.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

_Power of Sea be yours,  
Power of Land be yours,  
Power of Sky..._

Snowblossom stretched her arm, receiving respectfully a terracotta cup of bitter-sweet wine from their mistress. She wet her lips in the mug slowly and turned to hand it to the girl.

"It's your turn, child." She said with an edge of arrogance in her voice.

No matter how tense she was, how confused she felt at that moment, she obeyed, drinking in the blood of her ancestors. For a brief respite, she allowed herself to find peace in the soothing nectar. She heard the whispers again telling her to not be afraid, that she was safe and loved, that everything will be alright. Smiling against her will, she turned to face her mistress. It was time to go and she followed the tall and slender figure of the Lady in the dark. Her hood covered the face that the _Sweet Child_ knew was beautiful. The _Lady_ walked serenely, her steps light and aerial, like the steps of a god. She was dressed in bright crimson velvet and a metallic belt emphasized poetically the sensual curve of her maternal hips. She was completely at ease in Nature. It was like the wood knew who she was and step back from her path. Leaves made no sounds under her feet and twigs didn't dare scratch her delicate skin.

The Guardian who opened the path stopped dead in her tracks without warning. ... Suddenly, her vision blurred before her. She yelped faintly as she bump into the big red-haired. She mumbled an apology that no one heard. The Guardian nodded to Snowblossom who disappeared shortly in the dark forest. When she came back the Guardian relaxed the grip she had on her flanged mace. Her eyes finally settled on the Lady. She groaned.

"I can hear them: Noisy…rude and disgusting."

The child glanced around with suspicious eyes, unable to see the danger for herself. The Lady didn't answer. She kept walking her arm crossed on her chest.

"Who?" The child asked with an innocent voice that made Snowblossom smiled.

"Men!" Harkin, the Guardian said barely hiding her antipathy. Her lips twitched in a disgusted fashion like she was talking about some cruel disease. The Guardian's attention switched again as she turned in the direction of the sounds. In the distance, the sweet child took in a tiny spot of light that she had mistaken before for some fireflies. It was a fire camp.

"Men! Who? What? What are they doing? I thought it was forbidden…"The child stammered alarmed.

Snow snorted.

"Drinking, swearing, desecrating and destroying everything in their way... What else could they possibly do? They are men."

It seems that she spoke not only her mind but Harkin's point of view too since a smile spread on her face. The little girl frowned as she didn't really understand their obvious complicity. But the other women just smiled fondly to her before they continued staring in the distance their face grim once again.

"You're right. They are not welcome in our woods." The guardian finally told her with a grin. Her hazel eyes gleamed with something akin mirth in the torch's light. "Don't be scared, little girl, I'm just going to tell them that ! By the way, I need the exercise!"

Harkin or Hattie, like her friends call her sometimes, discarded her hood with one of her big hands, freeing her wild mass of red hair. She unsheathed her giant sword with one hand and the flanged mace tied to her waist with the other one.

"You cannot fight them alone."

"Really? You are again probably right. Just in case, watch my back little girl."

She said with irony because she knew the sweet child's training had not begun yet. The fifteen years old could not even use a knife without hurting herself.

"But you don't know how many there are… If they were too many of them… If they were skilled… You will be outnumbered and you will be killed..." The girl stuttered, her hands shaking endlessly on the lighted torch.

But all her words fell on deaf ears, Harkin was preparing for battle. It was a general knowledge among their community that the Guardian's disgust for Men was strong.

A melodious and feminine voice caught both of them off ground.

"We have no time for this. Let Arthur and his knights savour the night. Some of them are still innocent… Some of them are in danger… Some of them will die… I heard their anxiety. I smell their fear. But still, they mean us no harm. We will meet in another time and another place."

The lady said still walking in the direction of the muddy bank of the river.

"Are you sure?" Hattie grumbled like a frustrated child.

"Did I ever lie to you? Did I ever gave you a reason to not trust me?"

"No… I'm sorry your majesty." The big redhead replied ashamed. "I trust your discernment and I'm entirely devoted to you. Please forgive me, I had no right…"

"It's alright sister. You don't have to feel sorry. And you, child, don't be scared our kind is protected in this wood."

"But…"The sweet child enquired nervously.

The lady raised her head toward the sky and the child could swear she caught a glimpse of white porcelain skin. Immediately afterwards, she felt a chill running up her spine as the winds blew softly his magic in the brushwood. Above their head, a young crow soared in the night just like a shadow. And the Lady stood facing the silent lake as sounds of splashing water against woods grew closer. The smog dissipated a little as a boat came out of the fog. The sweet child's grey eyes grew larger, she couldn't believe the time had finally come. She was about to say goodbye to her ancient life. She was going to be a priestess. A real one this time… She will never see her father again.

"You were born to become a Morrigan. It's in your blood, daughter. We must go now… The great Lady will not wait for us. "

The lady walked to her and petted her head kindly. But the child couldn't move anymore. She took a step back as if to leave.

" Did someday... No, I can't my lady. I tried… but I can't go. Don't make me go. I don't want to go…" She sobbed. "I'm afraid I will miss my father too much. I can't be a priestess. You are the true Lady. I could never be… I'm not strong. I will never be, my lady… I have no powers… Forgive me; it's too hard to let everything behind me."

Her eyes travelled frenetically to the lady to the approaching boat. She even turned to the two priestesses for answers. But they both stayed quiet as the ship draw near them.

One of the two sailors jumped in the water to lead the craft on the shore. In the light of the torch, the sailor revealed herself another woman. She had an attractive face even if she wasn't a stunning beauty. Her dirty blonde hair fell in long irregular waves on her waist. She was a bit chubby for her height but she made quite an impression on the child. Her brown eyes were circled with dark riddles and a crescent moon was tattooed on her temple. She beamed with joy, relief reflected clearly on her features.

"Majesty, you are safe!" She exclaimed, bowing reverently in front of the Lady, tears glistening in her eyes. The Lady crossed the distance between them and embraced her in a tight hug.

"We have been so anxious, My lady, to have no words from you. " She sobbed.

"My sister," The lady breathed in her neck and it seems to be all the girl needed to find relief, because she immediately stopped crying.

"I'm fine. I was perfectly safe with Hattie. You know her. She took care of us like always."

"It's because we know her that we were worried in the first place." She snorted.

Snow grumbled something as to remind them of her presence.

"My wild flower, I didn't forget you in my prayer !" The girl said hugging the other blonde.

Hattie, the big redhead, ignored them and entered the water to charge the boat.

A worried frown crossed Calysto's face again and she took the lady's hand.

"I told Calybrid, that we should have come with you to protect you… We both heard words of Woads and Romans roaming south to Hadrian's walls. Vivian, they are venturing closer everyday… It is not by accident. War is at our doors. "

"Woads, what do they expect from us? " Harkin growled. "They think if they come, we will take part in their mess. What are they thinking, stupid men? They think we will fight for them."

Vivian stroke Calysto's hand gently.

"Merlin is not stupid, Hattie. He knows how to handle his troops. Furthermore, he knows how to manipulate destiny. The time will come, sister, when you will see it for yourself."

The redhead shook her head obstinately. She didn't have anything to do with a man, even if this man was a druid or a chief…

"Men are camping north from here." Calysto continued oblivious of the sudden tension between the other women. "We thought they're knights… from the great wall. We were so worried for your safety. The woods had grown dangerous tonight."

Her eyes fell upon the little girl as if for the first time.

"You must be the chosen?" She told the girl.

_The sweet child_ shrugged and withdrew a bit.

"My name is Calysto. I'm a guardian of the temple."

"Like her?" she asked pointing Hattie's direction.

"Yes, like her… although she is not as skilled as me." She said winking at her. "Hush, it's a secret but in all modesty, I'm one of the best. We don't want to make old Hattie, jealous, do we?"

She smiled defiantly in the Guardian's direction. Hattie stared them down an aggravated look in her eyes that made the child uneasy.

"Did someone call me?" She groaned.

"No one ever calls you, my friend, but you always answer all the same," The chubby blonde replied.

"One day, I will teach you one or two lessons, Calysto. One of them will be how to keep your mouth shut."

"That I want to witness." Came a womanly voice behind them. Calybrid, Calysto's twin emerged from the thick fog. She had listened silently until now but she couldn't help taking an active part in their familiar banter. She was slightly taller than her sister and slightly thinner too. The long braid resting on her left shoulder was of a dark blonde. She gave Hattie a hand to charge the craft.

"I must correct my sister; we're so looking forward to your lessons, Oh great Guardian!" Calysto added playfully. "I'm just dying to practice with my new axe."

"I don't want to crush you at the first blow, little girl." Harkin grunted. "Stop this, children! You didn't hear, Vivian, we have no time!"

The lady turned to face the child. She took one of the petite hands in her pallid one.

"I can't force you to go, my child. Our devotion to Morrigan doesn't work this way. We are all free. Now is the time to choose your path. You can come back to your blood kin or run to her new one. Run to your village… or come to Avalon with us. "

She could imagine her mistress smiling behind the thick material of her hood and her heart clenched in answer.

Hattie came from behind and lifted the Lady gently like she weighs no more than feathers. She carried her to the ship. When she returned to help the little girl… The sweet child was already gone.

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Tristan and Gawain were on their way back to the camp. Gawain wanted to warned Arthur immediately, but Tristan thought otherwise. However, it didn't take them long before they finished their task and resume their hunting. Bors was the first to see them. He stood to take their load, between two curses.

"I thought you would never come back" he groaned. "Was beginning to get hungry! Braden, here, had drink all the ale, bastard! "

Tristan didn't answer and he managed to silence Gawain with a murderous glance. He was scanning the clearing for Arthur. Their commander was leaning over Finn with Dagonet and Melan next to a second fire. Somehow during the time they were gone, Finn began to feel ill again.

"He is burning up a fever." Dagonet said with a saddened look.

"That means he didn't heal the first time. It's a bad sign. I thought… I thought… I give him the right herbs. I don't understand. It should have work." Melan whispered, his eyes glistening with tears as Dag patted his shoulder with compassion.

Arthur let out a deep breath, silently praying god that Finn could make it to the wall. He didn't want to ask them though because he was afraid of their answer. He didn't want to lose someone… not so soon. Not when he barely knew anything about them.

"I know you will do your best, Melan. Dagonet. Just help him."

He told them while he washed Finn'sashen brow with some wet cloth. All colors were drained from his body except for his red hair. He was paler than anyone had ever seen him. Finn shivered and Arthur put another blanket on his Knight. Melan took his limp hand in his, stroking gently like he could give Finn some strength just by doing that. They all watched, fascinated, as Finn's eyelids fluttered as if about to open and Melan almost squealed when he felt a light grip from the hand clasped in his own. He forgot to breathe as he fixed his friend with an anxious stare. Then, the grip relaxed, the eyelids smoothed out. There was no change. Melan sagged back on his heels, his head bowed sadly. Dagonet was the first to notice the scout standing in front of them. He was instantly aware that something had gone wrong. It was not in Tristan's blank expression, but in the way Tristan was looking intently at Arthur. He searched Gawain and sighed in relief when he saw the blonde boy sitting around the fire next to his brother. He gave Tristan a nod.

Where's Tanjin? " Arthur enquired distractedly.

"He disappeared shortly after my first kill." Tristan reported coldly.

"What!" The half-roman burst out. "He lied to me! Marcus was right. He is not trustworthy."

"You want us to track him?" Dagonet asked and Tristan shrugged not caring either way.

"You said he disappeared after your first kill?" Arthur insisted.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you report back to me immediately, Tristan? "

"He wouldn't have changed anything. The boy would have still been missing."

"Who is missing?" A smirking Lancelot interrupted.

"Tanjin" replied Melan.

Lancelot turned to Arthur with his best "I told you so" look and Arthur glared at him.

"Don't tell me we have to look for the boy…" Lancelot said. "I'm not sure I want to get in trouble for him"

"He will come back" Tristan said distantly, sharpening one of his knives on a chunk of wood.

"What make you said this? You said he disappeared; now you said he will come back. Please Tristan, a straight answer. Finn is ill, we're all tired, Tanjin is trying to kill me with his stubbornness, I'm not in the mood."

"Simple. His bag is still there. He will never left without it"

Looks were exchanged, but no words. There was nothing to be said.

Just when Lancelot was about to place one of his smart comments, they were interrupted by a piercing scream.

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The shadows enfold her in their willing embrace, as she run in the middle of the thick forest. _Oh goddess! What was she doing? She wasn't ready to be chosen but they didn't give her any reason to run_. Enough light remains for her eyes to detect the outline of the trees. She slide on mud and jumped again on her feet. _She was determined to flee. To escape whatever destiny had in store for her. She didn't want to be the sweet child. _Her toes sunk into the thick carpet of foliage as she tried to stay focus on her destination. The trees were still bare of leaves, a charcoal shadow play under the twilight heavens. All the time she felt watched, as if the wood itself was on its guard, and she hurried, not trusting herself enough to spend a moment longer in this place than she needed to. She stumbled suddenly on a big root on the ground and was sent flying in the air. Before she knew what hit her, she fell on something partially slack. Something made of bone and flesh. She vaguely registered that it hurt before falling into oblivion. However, she didn't have time to rest because she was swiftly tossed on the ground. Obviously the creature beneath her had decided that it didn't like the contact of their two bodies combined.

She wiped her face weakly. Then she sensed that the creature was back on his feet. Was it just the place that get darker or her? She could barely discern a shape in motion.

"Who are you?" A callous voice asked in a common language.

The creature walked toward her and she took a step back. She heard the sounds of metal clashing together and it send a chill through her spine. Running was definitely the stupidest idea she ever get.

"Answer me now! " The thing ordered.

She swept the air with her arms recklessly finding no support; she lost her balance again and collapsed on all four lamely. She finally stopped struggling, and sat on her heels, like she was waiting for her death. She discerned motions in the background as the creature circled her slowly, considering his prey. It finally paused in front of her.

"Who are you?"

It was merely a whisper. The creature was also perplexed at her sudden appearance.

"I can ask you the same question!" She exclaimed vindictively. "Are you a troll?"

"No!"

"A ghost, spirit from the past. "

"An elf?"

" No!"

"A goddess?"

"Are you crazy or what woman? I could kill you without an afterthought."

"Why?"

"Why what ?"

"Why will you kill me ?"

It didn't answer her.

"Why do you want me to die? I did nothing to you."

"Tell that to the new bump on my brow!"

"I'm sorry but I didn't do it willingly! I just fell…and you were on my way! In the middle of…"

"It's the same thing! It hurt all the same." It grunted.

"What were you doing here anyway!" she sighed annoyed.

"What are you staring at?" The voice suddenly asked, and it caught her off guard.

"I'm not staring…" she muttered defensively.

Her hood was discarded on her shoulders and the breeze played with her raven hair. Her grey eyes shined with their own light. She knew they look disturbing at first sight and she prepared herself for the outburst to come. When nothing came, she blinked slowly, trying to have a better view of her assailant.

"You're blind?" It asked not really waiting for an answer.

"I'm not." She retorted vehemently.

"What happened to you?"

For some reason, the voice was suddenly caring and it unnerved the girl to no end. She hated pity.

"I told you I am perfectly fine!"

"As fine as a blind can be!"

"You're so annoying whoever you are! And I just know that you have to be a girl, only her girl can be so complicated."

"You're quite the one to talk aren't you? I can say you're not too bad yourself. And for your record, I'm not a girl but a man. I am fourteen and a half…"

The man in question didn't even get to finish his sentence before she collapsed on the floor like a mad banshee laughing hard.

"What's there to laugh?"

She tried to catch her breath but with not much success.

"I don't know… The man part gets me all ticklish for some unknown reason. I can't see very clearly. But I'm not that blind." She said.

"What's your name, pest?"

She laughed again on a high pitched note.

"My father called me Morgan. The others called me Morganna or Morrigan…

"What's your name, little "man"?" She asked in turn, stressing the syllables dramatically on the word man.

"Tanjin."

"I have the feeling that it's not really your name!" She said closing the distance between them.

"My name is Tanjin!" He snapped back at her angrily.

"Alright! Alright! I'm sorry but it just sounded weird. I picture in my head a name more…"

"More what!"

"Feminine… perhaps."

"But as I told you before, I'm not a girl. No need for me to have that feminine romantic name you picture in your cute little head!" Tanjin sneered.

She sighed deeply, exhausted. Tanjin observed her warily. The girl was strange, in a chilling frightening way. He used to not allow his impressions get the better of him. And because there was her first time for everything; He added hastily.

"Though, my mother often called me Tangwen but I think it doesn't count because it was a secret between us. But that is really not the point!"

He cursed himself for his weakness. But the strange girl didn't seem to care, she reached for his face with her hand. He drew back instinctively and as though she sense his unease, she wrapped her arms around her chest.

"Do you find me cute?" She asked bashfully, with a barely suppressed girlish giggle.

"What?"

"You said my head was cute. Do you find me pretty?"

An appalled expression worked his way on his face and Morganna relished maliciously in his confusion. She smiled coyly.

"It's just an expression. My mother used to say that word often. I think she would have found you cute in a strange and ugly sort of way."

"Why?"

"You do look like her in an ugly sort of way."

"Where is she ?"

"Is it an inquisition?"

"I just want to know."

"Why?"

"Out of curiosity? Politeness? I can't say which one. We're having a conversation."

"You're far too curious for your own good my mother would say."

"And what?"

"Remember I could still kill you."

"What she looks like ?"

"Who?"

"Your mother…"

"A river of black hair, big eyes like jewels, a tan skin that the sun god used to love kissing."

"What happened to her?"

She felt Tanjin's tension and she bit her lips contritely.

"One day she was gone."

"Won't you tell me more about it."

"No."

"My mother is dead too. I used to live with my father."

"And now?"

"Now?"

"Yes now… Who are you trying to escape?"

"Nobody!"

Tanjin raised his eyebrows high in response.

"I'm not fleeing!" She insisted minutes later as if she could sense his doubts but Tanjin stay clearly unconvinced.

"Yes? Why were you running in the woods in the dark like a girl possessed?"

"I like to run." She lied.

"Really?"

"And you ? What where you doing?"

"I was just in the middle of my dinner."

She caught the faint smell of fresh blood on him.

"I have a feeling that I just don't want to know."

"So where were you going ?"

"I don't know. Nowhere specific, I told you before, I like to run."

"I would like to run too… but I have nowhere to go…"

"Where is your home?"

"Across the sea, far away from here… I'm not sure I will be welcome there anymore."

"So what will you do ?"

"Finish my meal and sleep."

"Later, I mean?"

"I will think when I will be there… I will probably go find the others."

"The men…The knights?"

He didn't question her knowledge about the presence of the knights instead he preferred grunted like the idea alone repulses him.

"Yes. You …?"

"Oh me… I will go home."

She finally got to her feet, her hands on her hips, eyes staring blankly across the stream.

"Where is it?"

"Across the lake, behind a curtain of clouds…."

"What's its name?"

"Avalon."

She thought a moment, contemplating the idea of calling it her new home. She smiled contentedly.

"Morgan…"

She turned to face him.

"Will I see you again? "

Her features darkened ostensibly. But then she's got an idea.

"You know what ? I'll make you my sister…"

"I'm not a girl…"

"Tangwen…"she sighed deeply. She smiled knowingly and at that moment Tanjin hated her and Tangwen loved her all at the same time. She took one of his bloody hands in hers and smeared her face with it.

"Like with your mother, it will be our secrets, Tangwen…"

"But you don't even know what I look like! Tanjin growled in frustration. You don't know anything about me!"

"I know enough. For instance, I know that despite the fact that you're a stranger to this land, you're not roman. Romans don't eat like you. They don't think like you too. I know you can be quite annoying. In another life, you must have been a prince or a king, you're used to give orders and take none. I know you would never hurt me because you could have but you didn't... I know that you must be gorgeous because your mother was. I know you can keep secrets because your life is tainted with lies. I know you're confused, conflicted between who you are, who you dream to be, and who you have to be in front of people. I know that you have lost so many people in your life, that even if you want to believe me, you feared what's to come, when you will feel loneliness dig a hole in your heart in the morning. But you're not alone… You will never be… I know you're a girl because I can see your soul. It's just there in front of me, warm and blistering, fierce and passionate, but so lost. We have so much in common. You're as blind as me. It's reason enough to be sisters. Think about it…You need a family and I need one too. We all need somebody. Just say yes…Because if you're my sister we will see again. We will always be there for each other. That's my promise. Because… as long as my name is Morgan and as long as there will be a breath of life in me, I will watch over you. I will always look at you. And you will know that I'm there for you. "

Tanjin suddenly let go of the knife in his hand. He felt suddenly very naked and embarrassed in front of Morgan. Tears ran down his cheeks as he saw his image reflected in Morgan's grey almost translucent irises. But instead of the tough boy he expected to find there, there was her girl. Tangwen. She approached Morgana the witch slowly. She cocked her head to the side as she tried to decipher all the meanings her words and tone implied. She nodded at last and embraced Morgan in her arms. Just like this one was not in the dark anymore, the other was not desperately alone…A fine compromise. The deal was made.

They stared at each other long minutes.

Because there was nothing more to be said, Morgan dashed in the darkness but this time in direction of her new family. As Tangwen stood still watching her new sister run away, a raven croaked, sitting on the branches of a nearby tree. She blinked and looked down hoping if she raised them again, she will see Morgan coming out from behind the brushes. Her features darkened and Tanjin stared at the path a deaf rage flaring in his eyes. He just decided he hated Morgan with a passion. He was confused now. His emotions battled with a renewed force. Little did he know that Morgan had spoken the truth and that their roads will cross in the future? Little did he know at that moment, that someone was now watching over him? The raven croaked hoarsely and soared in the black sky.

* * *

_Kermès _is a scarlet red pigment made of a cochineal that parasite the oak trees.

I'm so excited, that I didn't send the chapter to beta-reading before. So please be somewhat tolerant with the grammar and review to let me know how it went…


	6. How to make friends

Un royaume au-dessus des nuages…

I'm sorry for taking so long. Hope this rather long chapter will make up a bit for it! Thanks for all the reviews! You can't imagine how good it felt after a particular harsh day!

**Op :** Thanks for your great great review! When I began this story, my first fear was that I could never match my French writing skills. I was scared that I could not narrate this story conveniently! Sometimes I have a hard time finding the appropriate phrasing or the best point of view to describe a scene. But when I see your review in my box, I did my personal happy dance, (a mix of snoopy and Picsou dance over money)! I was delighted to see that it works!

**Melosine:** I absolutely adore "W_hat do you do to survive"_, which is an authentic masterpiece with an amazing plot and some beautiful descriptions. So to say I'm glad you don't find Tanjin too flawless and too marie-sueish, it's the understatement of the year! ****

**Calliope Foster:** Wow! I'm blushing and trust me it's difficult to make me blush! There is a simple biological reason to that. I'm black lol! So blushing and me nada! But I swear your review is an amazing boost for my ego! I could not stop read it again and again! Thinking is it really my story she is talking about? From an accomplished writer like you it doubles the pleasure. So thank you very much! Don't worry; not reading my lotr fic is not a great loss! Unfortunately I lost it with my last computer but even before that I wasn't satisfied with it! It was the story of a lieutenant of Sauron's army of south men (a girl in disguised). The group that Faramir and the Gondorian rangers took down in the second movie. Unfortunately for this poor legion of bloodthirsty survivors they crossed path with the rohirrims and their allies. I don't need to say they didn't stand a chance. And the bad girl fall in Eomer's exquisite hands for him to do as he please. He doesn't like the barbarian in her she can't stand the haughty "stable boy" in him. But after an endless of events they fall for each other. Even if I took an immense pleasure writing it, it was not very good! When I posted it I didn't receive so much as a review until recently. Almost a year later, if you could believe it! I still can't believe it!

**Aleera**: Mon Giminy, mon très chère petit criquet, je lève mon verre à ton bac, à ta majorité et au bonheur que tu fasse partie de ma vie ! Ce chapitre est pour toi. Entirely dedicated to you! Happy birthday, Gawain's girl!

So here we are, just where we left...

Chapter 6

How to make friends according to Hunnish lore

"He will come back" Tristan said distantly, sharpening one of his knives on a chunk of wood.

"What make you say this? You said he disappeared; now you said he will come back. Please Tristan, a straight answer. Finn is ill, we're all tired, Tanjin is trying to kill me with his stubbornness, I'm not in the mood."

"Simple. His bag is still there. He will never left without it"

Before Lancelot could place one of his smart comments in the conversation, they were interrupted by a piercing scream.

Arthur and the others ran toward its source. Bors was gripping his knives firmly in each hand ready for the kill. Callan was aiming clumsily the woods with his sarmatian bow and a shivering Danis was praying his gods to let him live another day. His face was ashen white as though he had just seen a ghost. He sat on a log, his body rocking back and forth as he addressed a plea to all the gods he could muster.

"What happened?" Arthur asked rather impatiently to Danis who appeared to be the one screaming in the first place. Lancelot approached Danis and shook him hard to wake him from his dazed state.

But Danis was already gone, his eyes stared blankly in the distance, as his lips mouthed words like "devil" , "blue eyes", "white as snow"… "Red face"… "Kill"… Danis was an easy prey to his fears and he stayed for a while unattainable. Lancelot groaned as he felt helpless.

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"You shouldn't have done that." Harkin grumbled as she came out from behind the comforting shelter of a gigantic Sycamore. Her giant figure was a mere shadow in the dark as she walked in the forest soundlessly. Another shadow rose to her feet behind her as Calysto stood from her crawling position on the ground. She was giggling lightly.

"Come on Hattie… Don't tell me you had not wished to do the same. You would think these men who got it by now. But no! It's always so funny."

"Vivian said to not harm them."

"But she didn't say we couldn't play a little."

Hattie sighed deeply as she stood still with Calysto. It was true she wished it had been her idea. They both stared at the fire camp a white mane hanging above their heads like the tree had grown another kind of leaves. "Danis's evil ghost" snorted as she emerged behind her companions, her body suspended in the air head upside-down, her weigh only supported by the thick branches of a birch. Her blue eyes reflected pretty clearly her annoyance at being discovered by one of the knights and not the smartest with that. She threw her bag and weapons on the ground and jumped nimbly on her feet.

"She is not with them." She stated gloomily like her bored child. "We should probably come back to the draft. Vivian is waiting for us. The girl had probably chosen. Otherwise, she knows the road."

"How can she choose to stay in this world?" Calysto asked innocently to her morrigan sisters. But sadly, they had no answer for her.

"It's probably for the best." Harkin finally said speaking to no one in particular.

"I'm hungry!" Snowblossom concluded suddenly inspired.

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Another scream make their blood froze, a feeling of danger creeping into their veins. Andreas yanked the crossbow strapped to his back. He aimed at the dark form that materialized itself behind a very surprised and a very frightened Galahad. The figure looked dangerous and hostile when he lifts his bloodied hand in the firelight. A very filthy and messy looking Tanjin came out from the darkness of the wood. He was grinning widely, enjoying the terror he had inspired to the young boy. His entire body was blood-splattered. He froze as if he suddenly took note of his appearance upon seeing the others horrified expression. They were not afraid of some blood, did they? They were supposed to be great warriors and one screamed like a girl who had seen a ghost and another was throwing up behind a tree. The rider, Duncan, wore a grim expression on his face and Blaez stared him down with an absolute look of disgust. But Tanjin didn't even flinch. They were as idiots as the romans. No wonder, sarmatians used to be common slaves for him. He saw three rabbits roasting over the principal fire and he smiled to himself, turning his back once more to lift up his giant game.

He threw his crossbow on the ground carelessly and turned to face a furious half-roman, half Briton captain. He had been lucky to find a fawn and his mother. He had hesitated telling Tristan or the blonde boy because… Actually, he didn't really know why, just that he didn't feel like sharing at the time. He didn't want to lose his target. He was too hungry. Too distracted for that…After the killing, Tanjin had decided to eat on the spot. After that he had an unpleasant meeting with one of the spirit of this forest. Soon after, he realized the others probably had returned to the camp by now. And he took him sometime in the darkness to find the trail, the watcher and the blonde boy had taken. First, cause he didn't remember clearly the way. Second the damn beast was heavy and his shoulders sore. And at last, he was damn tired. His eyelids fluttered every second from exhaustion. It had been a very long day. A deep familiar voice cut him out of his thoughts.

"Where were you?"

Arthur was talking to him like he was a small child. He was being lectured by a roman bastard. A smile appeared on Tanjin's smug face at the thought but it didn't last. As quickly as it came it was gone. He felt suddenly so tired. Every muscle in his body begged him to let them rest. He had almost forgotten but the persistent soreness in his knees reminded him of his unpleasant encounter with Morgan the Fay or back to his painful meeting with the cold concrete in Epithelium. The dull ache in his shoulders brought his uneven attention to the game tied together by thick coarse vegetal ropes. All seems to come back to him at the same time, his meeting with Morgan, the hunting, the riding, the beating he took from the roman, the fire… His life… everything… He sighed deeply. He was so tired to have to put up a strong front. But then, his emerald gaze turned darker as his irises narrowed slightly on Arthur's Excalibur…as he remembered why he was there. Romans… Sarmatians all the same… Cold-blooded Murderer… He reined his anger on a thin leash. He will have time for revenge later.

He tried to direct their gaze to the fawn. But the roman just continued to fix him full of conflicted emotions. Tanjin blinked away his weariness and frowned. What was that roman's problem? He glanced around him at the circle of knights surrounding him. What do they all want from him? He was back, didn't he?

Arthur questioned the boy confusion, fury and tiredness showing in his voice. His face twisted with bitterness. He met the boy's eyes for an instant and his hazel eyes shone with hurt and betrayal. He didn't wait for an answer as he immediately went on how he had been wrong about Tanjin, how the boy lied to him in front of witnesses, how the boy had no honour, how Arthur was fed of him, how he wanted Tanjin gone.. . He didn't want to listen more of Tanjin's lies. He had been wrong to thing there was something good in the child. He felt powerless in front of all these events and he hated this situation. It was unacceptable for him. So when he had finished his monologue, Arthur just stalked out in the dark wood.

Tanjin visibly relaxed at Arthur's departure, though his eyes widened slightly stunned. He folded his dirty hands across his chest, tilting his head just a little as a small, taunting smile curled his lips upwards in victory. But then Lancelot took a step forward toward him and grasped his left shoulder. As he was forced to face Lancelot, Tanjin's smile vanished unconsciously as he forced himself to stand his ground, scowling at the dark-haired knight, daring him to say something else. But this time, Lancelot glared in return. He didn't give Tanjin that playful mock stare he gave him in the morning. He just looked at him with the most deadly unemotional look, Tanjin had rarely seen in a man's eyes. It reminded him of the stern look of his father. Like when Attila was about to teach him a hard and especially painful lesson. He forced a leer on his lips but for the first time since when his father was alive, he was really anxious toward another human being. He scanned the group and saw the same look in all their faces. Now he felt uneasy. He braced himself for the imminent confrontation and the pain that surely is about to ensue.

"I will only say this once. I'm not sure Arthur means anything he said to you tonight. But you will have some explanation to do. Perhaps not now nor tomorrow but you will have to explain yourself sometime soon…"

'"I have no expla…" Tanjin threw at Lancelot, but he was cut short by the dark knight. Lancelot took another dangerous step in his direction and this time Tanjin chose cleverly to back off. He began to feel heavy. He was so damned tired !

"You better watch your words, boy! I have less principle than Arthur and I will not hesitate to teach you a lesson the hard way. And I'm sure I know three of my friends here who would do the same."

He told threateningly, his chin pointing in the direction of Tristan, Bors and Braden. Braden especially looked like he was about to crush Tanjin's body to crumbs and sift it to make a broth. He silently groaned as Lancelot resumed his gaze on him once more.

" I don't care of how many men you killed before. You are no different than me. I don't care of your origins. I don't care of where're you from. I don't care if you eat blood and raw meat on a daily basis. I don't care if you were a prince before ? Or some great barbarian spawn? If you want to stay among us, you better behave, boy ! Because you are NO LONGER alone and every actions may have consequences on our lives. Now go wash your face in the river with Duncan and Tristan, after that you are going to bed. And I don't want to hear from you until morning."

"You are not my bleeding father!" The young boy snapped back but at the same time his voice truly lacked of his previous assurance. He was so lame.

"I certainly don't wish to be. I' m too young and far too handsome for you to be mine. Now the discussion is over! Go !"

Lancelot had no rights to talk to him like this. He had no right at all, this little sarmatian weasel ass ! He had done nothing wrong. He didn't kill anybody. And he did what he was told. They were being unfair. Tanjin opened his mouth again but no sound came out. His eyes barely stung and his lips quivered in the most unmanly manner as tears sprang in his dark green eyes. But before a single tear fell, he bent his head down and began a strategic retreat. Unfortunately, he tripped on Galahad's foot. (Which as the narrator, it is probably my duty to point out that it was not a mere… **accident**… Be kind enough to follow my gaze).

So with Galahad's foot in the way, Tanjin lost his balance. But before, he could touch the floor, Duncan and Tristan caught him in the air and pulled him on his feet. He quickly wiped his face, hoping nobody had notice the tears. They dragged him along on the stream path, Tristan walking silently behind as Tanjin and Duncan made their way to the river. They passed near the pallid and sickly form of Finn and Tanjin asked with an uneven voice. "Is he dead?"

"It's almost like you seem to care." Duncan retorted with a sneer but his gaze softened immediately. He almost thought that he likes the boy.

A light dusting of stars was beginning to emerge behind the shade of dark grey clouds as the three strolled towards the stream, the footpath before them illuminated by the slippery Silver Star. It was cold and clear, the crisp clarity broken only by the giant clouds occasionally blown along on high east winds. Insolent, the Clouds would pass across the moon, vividly pitch-black against its pale face, covering her with a charcoal shroud, sending the world briefly into mysterious shadows.

Tanjin stood, his eyes momentarily lost on the vast extent of dark water. He gazed over the lake, his left hand massaging his right shoulder distractedly. Duncan and Tristan soon followed his gaze and soon became as absorbed as the Hun by the beauty of Broceliande's Lake. Together, they watched the riddles that appeared in the water now and then; listened as the water crashed over the rocks before sliding into the lake, the whispered murmurings of the fauna around them. The air wriggled with the carnal rhythms of all the innocent creatures that inhabited the enchanted forest. The sweet wind sang an echo of life intertwined intimately with a persistent scent of death…

"_Mother, why are you crying ?" _

_He could smell the sweet perfume of her dark mane teasing his nostrils and their softness tickling the crook of his neck. Tears ran down her cheeks soaking his temple making his own eyes stung with their saltiness. She didn't answer him and it unnerved him somehow. He hated when she did this. Since Keda… She has taken a habit of grieving while he slept. He hated it when she cried because he felt helpless in front of her sorrow. What could he do? There were just so many things he had no answer to just as now they were a few things he now understood perfectly. He knew she must be hurting because his heart hurt very much the same. He knew she must be feeling empty because there was also a part of him gone. He knew she must be scared… because he was terrified too. His mother had lost a status of favourite and his father married Ilico today. What worse could happen to them? _

"_Mother…" He began again but she shushed him with a wet kiss on his forehead. He felt her tense but it didn't last. She crawled down behind him breathing heavily between two sobs. He didn't have to wait for long before she was back to kiss him again this time on his cheeks. _

"_Remember what I told you?" She whispered in his ears her warm breath mingling in the air. He heard her sniff again, felt her chest against his shoulder filling with much needed air. Tanjin shrugged sleepily. _

"_Yes", he stuttered unsure if he knew exactly what she was talking about. Her arms closed around his torso and enfolded him in her warmth. In her loving embrace, he felt so safe as if nothing could happen to him. He sighed contentedly, his anxiety long forgotten._

"_I love you so much, my son. Never once forget, how much I love you!" she murmured in his ears. Another one of her tears wet his hair. He wanted to see her visage so he tried to face her but her embrace tightened around him like she was trying to lock him up in the cage of her love. Sometimes, he felt like this, like she was choking him with her protectiveness. But he knew she needed him, so he said nothing when she kissed him on the hollow of his throat. _

"_Love you so much I couldn't bear to lose you!" She sobbed in his shoulder and Tanjin felt his own body shuddered at the thought. He was so scared he refused to breath. Something was just wrong. Loud rumblings could be heard throughout the land as the heavens suddenly broke loose. Rain poured on the roof. A gush of winds entered the room and Tanjin shivered under his fur. _

"_You are so strong, Tan! How strong and beautiful you have become! You look just like him! He would have been so proud, my dear! Darling, you know, you're everything to me, don't you? " _

_He nodded shakily, unsure of where she wanted to go with that._

"_Attila drew his last breath hours ago." She finally mumbled in his hair. And Tanjin felt his heart stop, his body stilled, and a lump rising in his throat. His mind also was suddenly hazy trying to process what she just said. What she just confess… No she didn't say this! She just couldn't have said this. His lips were dry as he tried to find something to say in return. She took another mouthful of air and sobbed in his hair._

Gods, it hurts so much!

"_No! you're lying!" he snapped at her, fighting his way out of her arms. Her hands gripped his wrists firmly, her nails unconsciously embedded in his flesh. _

"_I'm sorry, Tanjin! You have to listen to me… now… There's so many things I need to tell you before it's too late!" She cried out fighting to keep him close. _

"_No, Stop that! Can't you see, mother?" He shouted back at her trying to make her understand how much he was already hurting. "No more lies, you promised! Please! Stop lying to me! There's so much I can take! HE can't be…"_

His chest hurt so much as a searing pain sank at the place where had once been his heart. Why does it have to hurt so damn much? How many times did he have to pray the gods to make it stop! He couldn't breath, he couldn't cry, his eyes stung but nothing came. No tears… He wanted to hurl, to yell, but he had no voice. He was so bloody damn tired!

"_Your father is dead, Tanjin! And Attila is dead too now! They're gone!" She cried out almost hysterically. "You have to understand what it means! I fear things will change for us soon. No, I know things are going to change. We wanted you to (…) But your father and I had enemies… Enemies that now will grow stronger. I'm sorry! Oh I'm so sorry! (…) Please forgive me, Tanjin! I love you so much you have to understand! All I ever did was to protect you."_

_Tanjin didn't even question the fact that she talk about Attila and his father like it was two different entities. He didn't even listen to everything she said that night. He was lost in his very much personal garden of misery. He was lost in an ocean of pain and everything his mother was telling him at the time only serve to aggravate the situation._

He faltered in front of the pool of water his hand stroking his chest as if it would make the pain go away. Images jostled in his mind…

_The corridor of the golden citadel of Kharaganda... Black hangings on the walls rustled under a malicious wind… His little fingers played on the wall… feeling under their touch the complexity of the mosaic's relief... A symphony of echoes was filtrated by the heavy wooden doors... Heavy gates in rich and deep mahogany colours embroidered with sophisticated epic scenes carved on them… The stirring metallic sounds of the golden knobs… The scent of candles blowing in the air… A soft hand on his shoulder… _

The lump in his throat rose slowly as his heart continued to pump his blood in all sort of directions.

_The doors creaked heavily and opened slowly. The smell of putrid death rushed into the hall… all over him…_

He choked until he heaved on the bank the crimson content of his stomach. He emptied the result of his impromptu hunting party until there was nothing left but the bitter taste of his own bile. He didn't realize someone had pulled him up until he felt a clumsy hand patted his shoulders awkwardly. Raising his head, he was ultimately lost in a pool of clear blue eyes. He shrugged Duncan's hands off and staggered to gain back the use of his legs. Balancing on his feet, he glared a moment at Duncan and the scout, rubbing his chest absentmindedly in a soothing motion. His eyes were injected with red streak of blood, betraying once more his emotional and physical weariness. His gaze softened and he nodded silently to the both of them, thanking them but warning them inwardly to spare him their comment or their kindness. Duncan smirked like usual. Tristan continued to stare at the sky seemingly distracted.

"I don't care", Tanjin suddenly said breaking the silence. His voice was hoarse as his throat was sore. "I mean I don't really know him… I just…" He shook his head and kneeled on the bank washing his hand. "I mean… we all die one day," He tried to explain with a sad voice. "But it's always sad when someone die of sickness. My father died like that, it was disgusting." He finished an edge in his rugged voice as he tried to not show the resentment he still held against life in general.

He bit his bloody lips. He had never talked so much in his life. What his mother would have thought of that if she had been there? Really, there must be some truth spells in these woods for him to spill his life to strangers like that.

"Where do you wish to die, little prince?"

The question caught him off guard and he turn to observe Duncan further.

"In battle, I wish to die fighting." He replied with a confidence that only youth provided.

"The way you act, if it gave you any comforting feeling, it will not be a difficult task." Came unexpectedly from the scout.

Duncan chuckled lightly, nodding in agreement with Tristan. Tanjin shrugged a little bit annoyed at being at the end of their leers.

"And you?" Tanjin asked a bit haughtily, gaining back some of his previous confidence.

"I want to die on my horse."

"And people would think me weird." He snorted.

Duncan's smile widened and he crouched beside him.

"It's the best place in the world, the saddle of a horse. It gives you freedom. And from your steed's point of view, you can see so many things in one brief perfect instant." He explained sweeping out the landscape with one of his hands, the other resting on his lap. "So you could have an eyeful before closing your eyes forever, knowing you're not alone."

Tanjin acquiesced to Duncan's surprise, in understanding. True, He hated horses. No, he loathed them with a renewed passion each day that passed. But there was just something in Duncan that made him easy to read. Was it his striking blue eyes? Or perhaps was it his very expressive features? He looks reliable and Tanjin berated immediately this last thought. To flee the confusion Duncan instilled in him, he glanced back at Tristan. It was vain though. Because he just exchange an enigma for another. This night was just too much for him to handle.

"And you, Tristan?"

If he was stunned that Tanjin actually knew his name, he didn't show it, like he didn't show any emotion or interest over the question more than it deserved. Tanjin leaned over the lake to wash his face, plunging his hands in the water waiting for the blood to dissolve by itself.

"So? No last wishes samartian ? "

Tristan took a seat on a tree not far from them.

"It doesn't matter where I died, because it will simply be my time."

Tanjin finally got to his feet, his hands and his face just a little bit cleaner than moments ago. Again, Duncan chuckled; amused that he might have to take matters to hands if he wanted to see the real features of the lad, one day. He was as grubby as Braden and even worse because Braden didn't bathe in blood in a daily ritual.

"I'm clean." He announced shaking his head and his dark-coloured shaggy locks.

"If you say so" Duncan snorted clearly unconvinced but he patted gently Tanjin's back. "So we can go."

They walked to Tristan who was already on his way back to the camp and the rider could almost picture a ghost of a smile on the scout's face.

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It was one of those days, sighed Gawain, one of those days where everything seems fade and tasteless. One of those days, when, from the moment you opened your eyes to the moment you have to close them at night, all seems to go in a slow motion. Gawain hated days as such, when he had to be reminded of the cold weather, their current lack of freedom and their own mortality.

The fog had embraced the land hours ago and it was barely possible to see the range of green hill at the entrance of the woods. Gawain had woken up to the sound of quiet sobs. He disentangled himself under his brother's arms and Galahad's leg. He stood groggily, pulling on some thick shirt over his head. It was early because the sun, if there was to be any this day, had not risen yet. The first familiar face he saw was Tristan's grim expression, eating a green apple and feeding his hawk at the same time. The scout seems lost in his thoughts but Gawain knew with Tristan looks could be deceiving. His gaze turned towards the place they had lit the second fire for Finn. And then, it hit him like a ton of brick when he remembered his fellow companion. He scanned the clearing and saw that most were awake. Bors, Braden and Dagonet were whispering indistinctly between two sips of some soup Oran had certainly prepared. They were quieter than usual and when they lifted their gaze toward him, he could see the bags under their eyes from the lack of sleep. And then he understood. He moved slowly to where Finn lied lifeless. Arthur and Melan were preparing the boy gently, tugging at his red hair, washing the blood that somehow he managed to loss during the night. He couldn't believe he was sleeping when the boy died. He couldn't believe someone would sleep at time like this. He was ashamed. He didn't really know Finn. But Finn was one of them. And he had let one of his companions down in his most hours of need. He fell to his knees beside Arthur. Tears were running freely now on his rosy cheeks. He opened his mouth to ask when or why but he quickly shook his head. He couldn't ask such a thing. He vaguely noticed that Galahad and Aggravain were quarrelling on who will go to the river to fill their flask before finally settling on the fact that now there were more important matters. Nonetheless, it was Galahad who inherited the task. He shook his head, a faint smile on lips. He was beginning to feel deeply for the young boy. True, he complained a lot. But there was just something in Galahad that call to him…That called for his protection. Perhaps it was because Galahad reminded him of Gaheris, their five-year old brother back home. Gawain closed his eyes as he was trying to avoid seeing them. Because now something else hit him, they might die on this island. Finn had been the youngest with Galahad. And he died. What happened if he lost Galahad too or worst his brother. And would he let them die like Finn alone? Could he find peace knowing they may never see their home again? Gawain was still depressed long after they enter the Wall's fort.

Finally Arthur broke the silence.

"Pack up; we're going home in an hour." But even the word sounded wrong to his own ears.

They would be no home for Finn on this misty rainy day, no home but a grave.

Later, Tanjin came out with Duncan at his side. He seems like he wanted to hide something. Tristan noticed the first their strange behaviour. A slight smile tugged on his lips.

Tanjin whirled at the last minute in the direction of the fire with Bors and Braden. But Duncan just blocked his way, raising high, his scarred eyebrow. And the rider pushed him forward a little, encouraging his sudden shyness. Then Tanjin walked to Arthur.

"I'm not going to say sorry… I'm not going to say sorry" the Hun told himself again and again. This was just an act of respect. He saw Arthur frowned at his sight. Yes, that couldn't be too bad. The roman was still looking at him after all. He clenched his jaw, bracing himself for what was about to come. His eyes flickered between light steamy green to dark emerald eyes. He stood over Finn's dead body facing the commander. It only took half a second. A thousand different emotions shimmered in shades of deep green, causing Arthur's hazel eyes to react in answer. The light in Tanjin' eyes burned incandescently, darkening at first, and then lightening to ice. It seems like an individual passionate ballet. Tanjin's eyes could dance and speak. The boy has many talents thought Arthur, but he quickly remembered that Finn's too. And it quickly led him to another realization. Finn was an innocent unlike them. He was so young! God help him! He was so sorry! It was entirely his fault!

At last, Tanjin stopped fidgeting and held out the crown of flower that he had made for Finn. He didn't say a word at first. He didn't want them to make fun of him. It was a very girlish idea, yes! But it was tradition. His mother had told him so one day.

"They said…" He began and then shrugged. "It's tradition for children to have a crown, symbol of innocence, in some payment for the next world."

"What do you want on this mournful day, hun ? Rose a voice behind them. Do you devote your life in harassing all of us? Or I see, it's a special treat reserved to Arthur."

Tanjin had just the time to register the words and duck to avoid a blow a blond storm tried to throw at him.

"Finn is gone, and you are already gloating upon his death. Are dare you mock the warrior in him by bringing flower?" Blaez yelled, hitting Tanjin's chin this time. "Do you have no sense of decency at all Hun !"

Arthur took a step forward in order to grasp Blaez. But Blaez move fast enough and he manage to punch Tanjin's nose strong enough to draw blood. Tanjin roared in pain. Blaez's features contorted in fury. He was mad. Finn was dead and he unconsciously blamed the Hun for his disease. It was Tanjin's fault! Everything began to go bad when he appeared in their life! Blaez wanted to make him pay dearly!

The hun kicked the sarmatian off rather easily. He jumped swiftly on his legs, ready to take the life of one particular man, anger was consuming his heart. He pressed his palm slightly drawing out his blade. But he stopped dead in his tracks as he remembered Finn. As he remembered another death, a more painful loss… and a feminine voice reached his ears.

"_Can't you stop your bickering with Batur! You shall not fight on a mourning day."_

He raised his fist in the hair preparing to strike the jugular of Blaez.

"_He was the one who attacked me in the first place! He called me roman frogspawn! Let me wipe that stupid ugly ass he called his face! His twin will never recognize him!" _

"_Would you stop, child! You should be ashamed of you! Listen to me attentively when blood has been spilt enough to bring death, Tanjin, you should never let anger and despair driving you. You should never stoop to such lowly emotions. Your forefathers, the gods will never forgive you." _

She was right again, he shouldn't. It was not acceptable for Finn. He set his gaze on Blaez who were fuming on the floor where a heavily built Braden and a really persuasive Duncan were trying to calm him down. Tanjin didn't move, before slowly reaching to take his crown back. Arthur's stopped him a firm hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Don't." He said. "Forgive Blaez, he's hurting."

"I didn't wish him dead." He honestly said, shaking his head sadly. "I just thought it was the right thing to do. I'm sorry if it offended you and your men."

He didn't just say sorry to Arthur, did he? Gods, he was miserable. How can he be such a failure! He hopes his father, in the sky, didn't just witness him like this. He felt the heat warming and colouring his cheeks. By Providence, he wasn't clean enough for someone to see the difference!

"I'm aware of this tradition. Finn was honourable and innocent. He deserved this crown and much more. No offend is taken. Although, I'm aware that it is a very old roman tradition. "

Tanjin nodded, staring in front of him. They were all watching the Hun curiously. He understood the question behind that statement.

"My mother was… She was roman by blood." he mumbled embarrassed somehow.

That's it, Tanjin thought. They knew now he was half blood, despite the fact that in his mind he was all Hun. Arthur smiled in sympathy. He kneeled over Finn and place with extreme care the crown's made of wild blue flowers on his hair. They all fell silent, thinking about Finn and all the things he didn't have time to do.

"It's time." Arthur said and they all return to finish their preparations and retrieved their horses.

Duncan smiled as Tanjin followed him to the meadow they had let the horses wander. Bors gave him a pat on his shoulder.

"That was a good thought, little man. Finn would have been pleased. "

Arthur watched them from afar. Bors was right. Finn would have been pleased.

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It takes them three more days to reach the fort. Three long days of riding… A real torture for a certain Hun on his mount directly released from Hell. When they finally reached Hadrien's walls, the night has already fallen on the hills. The other knights had already crossed the gates but Duncan, Tanjin and Tristan were left three miles behind.

Tanjin, because Scourge, his stupid, evil and stubborn black stallion refused to run and keep slowing him all the time. It was the worst pathetic excuse for a war horse in the entire world.

Duncan was grinning. He was the one who suggested he stayed with the boy. It was too good of an option to pass. He was laughing his head off watching both horse and master, cursing, fuming and neighing in unison.

If it was not entirely for the fact that Arthur had personally asked him to watch over the boy, Tristan felt compelled to keep an eye on him. He was really intrigued by Tanjin no matter how hard he wanted to deny it. It would be also good to mention the fact that he was partly bored with the gloomy mood of his fellow knights. One more hour of Galahad's incessant whining and they would have one more to bury tomorrow.

They were not talking, trotting quietly in the chilling night, just enjoying some comfortable silence. A peace only interrupted every so often by Tanjin's curses, Duncan's horse snigger and his master's chuckle.

"How is the Wall's fortress? " Tanjin suddenly asked, his frown deepening at the first sight of the fire at the gates of Hadrian's fort.

"I've only been there once or twice as we spent most of these two years travelling. And we didn't stay there for too long. But it's huge I can say that much. Different from any other roman garrison, you've seen in the past. We share a sparse room between two but it's mostly comfy. Depending of who you're sharing with, that is. Once I had to share with Braden and believe me when I say that I would have preferred the stables accommodations."

"Why ?"

Horses smelled and they were noisy, the Hun thought puzzled, tapping Scourge side to order him to move. When the stallion didn't move, he threatened in hunnish to skin him alive. Scourge whinnied in answer and began to trot again.

"You obviously didn't spend much time with Braden. It's a good thing for you actually."

"A dead would say Braden is a breath of fresh air and thanks his gods in earnest for his own lack of breathing. " came the quiet voice of Tristan beside them.

Duncan snorted loudly in time with his golden steed. Tanjin just looked warily at them both. But his eyes settled once more on Tristan. He was strange for a young man. He couldn't have been older than the God-almighty-Lancelot! Or perhaps not by much! His dirty dark shaggy hairs reached his shoulder. A fringe of locks and braids hide his piercing brown eyes that seem to possess the ability to bore into souls. It was like a glassy window where you couldn't see beyond but you know that someone watch from behind the curtain.

'Yes, Tristan is right. No matter how many baths he takes, our friend always smells worse than a skunk. I can't imagine how his wife can put up with him. Fortunately for us, she will have this burden, since she lived with him."

"He doesn't stay with the rest of you? "

"No, he and Bors had lover to come home to. They live in town with them. Braden is the proud father of a young boy. He had even married Sylena last year. She works at the tavern with Vanora."

"Who is Vanora? "

"Bors's lover. He had two children with her. Last time I saw her she was waiting the third. I often wondered what these two perfectly fine ladies find attractive in these two brutes."

"And you, do you have a lover?" Tanjin asked with plain disdain for the word lover. He made such a face, that Duncan couldn't help laugh in return. The boy was actually a pleasant company for him.

His golden mare chose this moment to express her objection as she shook her head nervously. It was as if she was listening to their conversation. Duncan leaned, gently stroking behind her ears.

"Don't worry, you're my favourite!" Duncan said, patting a neck lovingly. "We both know that the women don't deserve us."

"I agree Duncan, they don't deserve you." Tristan commented a glint in his eyes.

"It's just a horse!" Tanjin stated like it was obvious. He was looking at Duncan like the other man had grown a second head. He was crazy.

Duncan snorted.

"Don't listen to them, sweetie! They're just jealous."

"Horses don't talk! They don't understand! They're just animals."

"I thought you said yours was evil." Duncan replied, his scarred eyebrow raised in a teasing manner.

"Doesn't mean, it doesn't have a mind on his own. You're strange. "

"'Said the guy who drinks blood like milk."

"It was only once. It was not even for hunger." Tanjin protested, falling easily in Duncan's teasing. Duncan reminded him so much of Talika. It was easy to forget that he was still the enemy. He frowned at the thought. But it was true, he feels at ease with the rider as irritant as the prospect was. The mischievous rider sneered in return, shaking his head disapprovingly.

"It's no wondering why your horse hates you! He has to be concerned and a bit upset. The lad he has to carry on miles plot to chomp on his neck !"

And Tristan crooked a rare smile toward the rider.

"It was not like this! I'm not a monster! It's a tradition…When I was a baby like my father and my brothers before me, I have to do it. " He snapped back but his eyes filled with unshed tears. Even with the lack of light, his companions could see perfectly that the Hun surprisingly was about to break. But Duncan has not finished yet.

"Try telling Scourge that! Poor boy, He feared you like plague! Look at his legs! He can't even run! "

"It's not like this!"

He just looks at Tristan in despair. The flips of a hawk's wings were heard behind them and Tristan lean slightly over his horse, holding out his arm. The hawk land for a second acknowledging his master before taking his flight again. Tristan nodded quickly before urging his horse forward the gates.

"Tristan is probably right!" Duncan suddenly admitted grinning widely, even though Tristan had not said such a thing. Come to think of it, Tristan said nothing at all. "It probably isn't your fault if your horse is so slow. Let me give you a hand. "

He held up his hand before striking scourge's behind firmly, watching with a smile as the stallion arched dangerously beneath a suddenly scared Tanjin. As Tanjin rode quickly in direction of the gates, he bellowed after them, urging Aurora with a stroke of her mane.

"Now, that's riding!"

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoox

Ten minutes later, Duncan and his horse made a dramatic entrance in the courtyard. The moon shone brightly through the skylight, tinting the space with an eerie cold blue light. Jols watched the rider from afar as he dismounted gracefully his perfect golden mare. Duncan kissed his girl's neck as she neighed appreciatively her master's attentions. He squeezed her blond mane and led her in the middle of the courtyard toward the squire.

"I was beginning to worry for you, my friend. We thought you lost and even worse." Jols teased with a smile.

"So much faith in us!" Duncan retorted his hands stroking Aurora passionately.

"What happened to you?" Jols continued. "Did the little woman came back to her senses and throw you off ?"

Duncan's scarred eyebrow rose questioningly but Jols had no doubt the mischievous rider had perfectly understood his meaning.

"You wish?" He finally said. "No, I' m still the best rider in the world and she is still my faithful and stunningly beautiful mount."

"A little bit ahead of ourselves, are we?" Jols retorted dryly as he took the reins. But Aurora shook her head frenetically as if she wanted to make a point herself to disagree with the squire.

Duncan snickered at her antics, amazed himself as how much his mare was communicative. He was busy unloading her charge when another rider makes his appearance in the courtyard. He spun in time and watched as Scourge delivered the prince Hun to Arthur.

Scourge entered the yard in a furry, his hooves stamping the ground furiously lifting a swirl of dirt in the air. He stopped abruptly, bending down deliberately causing the fall of The prince of the Huns. The prince of Horses was about to finish him with one strike of his massive hooves. But was promptly halted, Duncan who had predicted Scourge's next move was on the horse in a matter of seconds.

"Edgy, are we? He asked the stallion. "I can understand… but really, just between us, it's not a way to treat a friend."

He scolded the horse like someone would a child.

"I know… I know he is arrogant and he smells like a carriage of wasted meat but it's not reason enough, you know…"

He engaged good-naturedly in a chat with Scourge as Tanjin was gathering his strength on the ground, grumbling all the curses he knows, in all the languages he has knowledge of. Jols discovered that it made quite a number.

Scourge tapped Duncan's left shoulder with his head and the knight stroke his robe in answer.

"I know… I know… He actually wanted to bite you. But understand the guy… It was tantalizing for a barbarian fiend you know…"

Scourge shook his head again, his ears pointing in the direction of Duncan.

"Yes, I can understand that you feel threatened in a way but look at him. He is not that bad, once you've got passed the bad-ass, arrogant, hot-tempered, ungrateful side. He is pretty acceptable. I promise you, he will improve with time or else I will be compelled to kick his hunnish bottom across the black sea."

He said unloading scourge unceremoniously throwing all Tanjin's belongings on the ground. Tanjin was now back on his feet, gritting his teeth. He drew the blade in his gloves lunging in the direction of Duncan and the horse. Actually, He was so blinded by rage that he wasn't sure who he planned to strike, the evil horse or the insolent rider. But a callous hand grasped his arm tightly, and he turned to see a brown-haired man dressed with a simple brown tunic.

"Let me go ! Just let me go or I swear I kill you too." He yelled but Jols didn't flinch.

"Little boy, you are not the first who had threatened me in this life. And you will certainly not be the last.

Duncan finally spun around, leaning on scourge with his usual smirk. He crossed his arms on his chest, with a belly laugh that would put Bors to shame.

"Jols, my friend, I feel like allowing these two to work out their issue. We should probably let them fight to death. What do you think? "

Jols smiled.

"Tempting in fact, but I fear for the boy." He said as he let go of Tanjin's arms with no warning sending him again on the floor. "So, that's him. The Hun Prince!" He stated clearly unimpressed. "Arthur has giving me a full description but he omitted the compulsive murderer part."

Duncan smirked.

"He certainly wanted it to be a surprise. You know, Arthur? Such a jester!" He said ironically. "Where are the others?"

"At the tavern now, I presumed, they must have returned from the graveyard. Arthur chose to not delay the burial any longer. He said you would understand."

Duncan didn't answer, he was fussing over Scourge. They all know he hated funerals as he had never set foot in a graveyard before. And he wasn't planning on making an exception for anyone anytime soon. Besides, Duncan knew Finn has people who will accompany him to his last residence. People who didn't know Duncan would ultimately mistake him for a monster of selfishness. People will just assume him heartless. But Jols, because of Duncan's closeness with horses, where one of the few who knew that it was just a show. Duncan chose to not connect with human beings because whereas animals have a tendency to live long lives, humans did not. They were frail and easily hurt. Duncan disliked that side of humanity.

" So straight to the room after that we're hitting the tavern." He said entrusting Jols with the reins of his precious mare.

"Oh I almost forget," Jols added as an afterthought as he walked the horses to the stables. "Arthur said that provided you're the one who get along the most with the Hun, he will share your room from now on."

"Who say we get along?" He scoffed. "And Tristan?"

"He will have Braden old rooms."

He snorted.

"Do you think the stables are cold at this time of the year?"

Jols shrugged, disappearing in the night.

"So that's left you and me, smelly braids? What's say I show you your royal quarters?"

Tanjin glared at him.

Duncan led the way in the labyrinth of corridor and stony arches. He stopped in front of a door and opened it with a dramatic bow. He turned, batted his long lashes as though he waited for the prince to make the first move. Tanjin did not disappoint him as he pushed Duncan in the doorway roughly, the doorknob pressing against his back. Duncan winced and grasped Tanjin's right arm pulling him again in the corridor.

"Perhaps I deserved that one but shall we try not to kill each other before supper?"

"You deserve so much more, clown, but I will wait to take my revenge! "

"Hey watch it boy, you don't want to offend the only friend you have."

"Guess what? I don't care, I don't like you and I certainly do not trust you! You're not my friend."

"Suit yourself! Be stubborn but if you have to stay here as long as I think you will be. You better not make enemies of your allies."

"You did it on purpose, didn't you?"

"Pray tell me what, your ominous majesty?"

Tanjin stepped forward and showed him his bruises on his forearms.

Duncan' s eyes widened comically but then he commented.

"I love the blue and purple of your tattoo. Is that a dragon?"

"That's enough !" Tanjin cried out, lunging for Duncan's throat.

He avoids him at the last second but stumbled on the ground. And Tanjin kicked him several times in his side until Duncan grasped his foot and pulled him down. But Tanjin's legs swept the ground like snakes, and hit Duncan on his chest making him gasping for air. They both get to their feet in the dark corridor. Fists flew. Legs kicked. The only sounds were the thuds of the hits landed and the frequent groan that followed a well placed strike. This went on for the next five minutes. Occasionally one of them would get a good enough grip on the other to throw them back, but they never came close to staying down and the fighting would resume before either would have time to take a breath. Tanjin look like a vivid ball of energy, using his entire body in a demonstration of strength and agility.

Slowly though, the fight was changing tone. Duncan who used more his fists unlike Tanjin was beginning to wear off. His moves became more and more imprecise, more and more slow. He was beginning to understand why the Huns had a so good reputation. He wished he had kept a weapon. Anything at all… Seemingly distracted with thoughts, he didn't see the blow coming. Tanjin kicked him in his abdomen sending him flying backwards. Rushing down the stairs, Duncan tried to protect his face for further bruises. He growled. The last person who dared scarred his pretty face was now six feet under. He stood and tried to go back upstairs but like a cat Tanjin jumped on him. Duncan collapsed again under the shock.   
They struggled until Duncan who was taller pinned him under his body.

"Now listen ! Yes, I pulled some tricks on you, but I just thought we deserved some comic relief after the last insane days. I was only trying to help you. But no, you don't have to thank me, ungrateful little bastard. You're too damn proud for that! We're just mere mortals in front of the Mighty Hun Hero. All your wounds are just the result of your bad temper, if you want my opinion. Because theses ranges of bruises are because of your stupid brawl with the Romans, this one is for meeting Tristan and trying to harm Arthur. This one is for misbehaving with Scourge. If you had a little respect for that horse he would have shown some to you. But no, what can I understand to all these things I'm just a common bloke who by the way is too damned wired and too bloody damn hungry to suffer another round of your whines! If you want to kill me, go ahead be my guest ! For all I bloody care!" He said collapsing on the ground beside the hun, trying to catch his breath.

"Ah! You yield in front of me, sarmatian!" Tanjin shouted in victory, even though he didn't dare move from his position in fear his bones were going to crumble to dusts.

"If you want, you win ! But if you have some pity for a poor lad just do it after he has some rest and a good meal in his belly."

To emphasize his good words, his stomach grumbled loudly.

It was then that something very strange happened in conclusion of almost a week of madness. A satisfied smirk graced Tanjin's morose features. He began to sob… no, no, he wasn't crying. He was laughing… coarse rumblings like years have passed since his last laugh.

Duncan smiled and pushed himself up on his elbows to observe the boy.

"What's that ?" Tanjin asked between two laughs pointing Duncan's tummy.

"A call for a truce maybe?"

"Duncan?"

Tanjin leaned over him. His head caught in the rays of the moonlight. Angular shadows cast his face in neutral tone. Green eyes stared at him wistfully. Eyes like shards of emerald green with moon-kissed skin as golden as bronze, a mouth soft with a full upper lip. Beads of sweat shone on his face, framed by his dirty dark locks. In this light, he just looked too frail to be a man. A lump caught inexplicably in the rider's throat as he looked at his sharp delicate bone structure drawn out by the silvery highlights. He cleared his throat remembering it's not a way to look at another man.

"Yes…" He stuttered tentatively.

"Don't make me hate you again…"

Blue eyes widened in surprised but he chose wisely to not comment.

"Huh…We should probably go before Bors decide to swallow up the Tavern." He finally managed.

Tristan waited for the two to disappear in the direction of the tavern before he jumped agilely from the roof where he'd been sitting. For once he wasn't trying to eavesdrop. He just happened to be there. He had studied amazed Tanjin's fighting stances. And then something happened, he was not sure what exactly but Tanjin started to laugh. It was ringing in the air, hoarse and grave but strangely melodious. And then he caught a glimpse of bronze skin. Oddly, now that he was too far to discern much of the Hun's features, he saw much more of Tanjin. His suspicions were strengthened. Something was amiss and he just has to approach Tanjin to finally determine what.

N/A: I still didn't send this chapter to beta-reading so please be somewhat tolerant with the grammar and review to let me know how it went… Reviews please please please pretty please!


	7. Surrender

Un royaume au-dessus des nuages…

Less than a month between two updates is a miracle for me! That's it the more reviews I get, the more inspired I am! So keep them coming! Don't be afraid to tell me if you love it or if it sucks! Thanks to those who eventually take the time! You guys are great! Again, I feel much too excited to send it to beta-reading! I am in a hurry these days but my only hope is that this chapter will be alright! So I beg you again to review and let me know how it went… Review please, please, please pretty please!

**Op**: Always delighted to see your name in my mailbox! You must be the best reader ever and I wanted to thank you for taking the time!

**Delph :** Merci pour ton feed ! Il m'a fait extrêmement plaisir ! Et oui, on dira « il » pour Tanjin ! Je sais que c'est particulièrement déconcertant pour le lecteur, cela l'est même pour moi et je suis l'auteur, c'est pour dire ! Mais je voulais un peu me démarquer des histoires où la guerrière s'intègre tout en restant très féminine, très jolie etc… Non, Tanjin est un bon guerrier ! Mais pour recevoir une telle éducation, il a payé le prix. C'est à dire la négation de sa propre identité. Enfin j'espère arriver à faire passer ce sentiment et à tout expliquer au fur et à mesure sans perdre les lecteurs en chemin. Et peut être qu'au bout du voyage, Tanjin se trouvera !

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Chapter 7

Surrender

Three days later, life had taken over its rights in the fortress. Duncan was busy outdoors with Jols, shoeing his girl and three other horses. At the same time, he was exchanging jokes with Gawain who for the occasion parted with his Siamese brothers Galahad and Agravain; while these two were on the practice field sparing under Dagonet's watchful gaze. Tristan was on a mission with Braden and Percival, a few miles south of the walls and they were due to arrive in the afternoon. Yes, life was definitely back on the road of normalcy at Hadrian's walls! The younger knights started their training and the older ones started their drinking bouts at the tavern. Bors and Lancelot especially were making it a knight duty to empty the stash of ale of Vanora.

Gawain sat on a straw mattress nearby watching the two men finished with Galahad's white mare, Balian. Jols sighed and wiped the sweat on his forehead before finally taking back themare in her stall.

" I thought you were supposed to help us, Gawain?" He asked the blonde boy.

" I'm just waiting for the opportune moment. Seems like you had everything under control here! I don't want to be a burden!" He said by way of justification for his laziness. Duncan winked at Jols who acquiesced in turn.

"You should go help Jols with the last horse." Duncan suggested, his scarred eyebrow raised mischievously.

"I don't think he needs me, really ?"

"Gawain! Yelled Jols.

Gawain smacked his tongue on his teeth complacently before he entered bravely the stall of the "prince of horses". Duncan mentally made a count to ten before he heard a scream followed by a "bloody Hell!"

"That monster bites me ! Bloody damn horse!"

He heard a commotion and Jols asked Gawain cheekily if he needed some help. Gawain cursed in return and Scourge whinnied loudly.

Duncan sniggered lightly at first but then when he saw Gawain ran from Scourge's stall, more than his hand, his pride wounded; his blonde hair waving behind him as he dashed out of the facilities, he completely burst into laughter. Scourge came out with Jols, clacking his teeth in victory, his snout held high like he was parading after a battle. The rider couldn't take more and he slid on the floor, convulsing from amusement. Jols shook his head disapprovingly but the mirth in his eyes told a rather different story.

"You know you're a wicked one, huh?" He said as they began to work on Scourge.

"I don't recall being alone in this." Duncan defended himself between chuckles.

"Before you ask, yes Gawain will survive this encounter with Blight-the-magnificent!"

Scourge made a strange noise and knocked Duncan playfully on his back.

"I think he likes you, you know?" The squire pointed out. Duncan shrugged.

"He has a bad temper but deep inside he is a softie. Just have to be careful how we approach him!"

"Like his master? "

"Huh? Duncan mumbled while examining one of Scourge hooves. He sat Scourge's leg on his lap and began to clean it out.

"Like his master?" Jols persisted stroking its pelt at the same time.

From the first day he had noticed the way the Hun and Duncan interacted with each other and even if he didn't see much of the boy lately, he couldn't help but be pleased to finally see his friend bonds with one of his fellow comrades. Even if really thinking about it, no one could say that the Hun was part of the group. Just not yet…He was still the outsider and the favourite subject for gossips in the fort.

As for the principal interested, where he was, he couldn't care less of what they did tell or not tell about him. Since the night of his arrival, Tanjin had not woken up. He spent the last days sleeping and occasionally stirring to ask for food. The Healer of the fort had stated that his injuries were not life-threatening. He called it sheer exhaustion but it is not necessary for me to add as the narrator that Galahad and Blaez would not have minded if he never wakes up at all! It had been decided that someone will stay with him in case he was in need. In the exception of Blaez who refused categorically, I quote, to help the "Hun-bane-of-their-bloody-existence", and Danis who upon hearing Tanjin was the son of Attila the scourge, take it as a survival measure to not cross the path of the boy, they all volunteered for it. Or more specifically they let Arthur volunteered them for it.

"So Duncan? Is he that bad?"

Duncan avoided purposely answering to that question. It was strange with Tanjin. Either you like him or you hated him and more often than not you couldn't decide which one was appropriate. When you wanted to hate him, he had the nerve to muck up your plan and do or say something that make you think twice about your decision. And when you wanted to like him… Well, he truly thought this was the worse. The fact that when you wanted to like this lad, you own brain came up constantly with new reasons each bloody minutes of the day to dislike him. Duncan thought a bit further.

He could blame it all on his age. He was seventeen and by right inclined to foolishness. Sixteen had been good. Until sixteen he had still been a virgin. And fighting and taking care of Aurora, were the sole grape of his existence. But then one day, this changed somehow. The women, the ale and every bloody damn censored pleasure entered his world when the other knights led him to a cheap brothel and after one night of an unspeakable debauchery in this place of perdition, Duncan was definitely not your usual Duncan anymore. Used to be Duncan and his horse! Now there was Duncan, his horse and sometimes coming along his penis! And what an interesting combination it had made three days ago! He had been lusting after a smelly boy who down right kicked his scrawny ass across the stairs! He was miserable! He closed his eyes trying get rid of the image of Tanjin's green eyes in his mind. What was wrong with him? The more he spent time with Tanjin the more his thoughts were confused. What was up with that boy? He knew Tanjin was hiding something. The night before, he trashed for an hour or so, mumbling incoherent words in his slumber. Duncan knew only three things that could cause this kind of nightmares, some childhood or battlefield traumas or some secrets which wanting to come to the surface. Holy shit! Tanjin was pretty much grown up. He could keep his secrets for all Duncan bloody care! But the truth was the rider did care just a bit! It was just because Tanjin's nightmare disturbed his own sleep! Yes that was the reason! He settled down Scourge's paw on the sandy soil and attacked another one.

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On this sunny morning, because no one else devoted himself to the task, it was Arthur who was sitting next to the bed beside Tanjin. He was busily telling himself that someone had to show the example concerning the Hun. But hearing shouts in the yard as Bors and Lancelot spared together pulled all his good thoughts to test. He heard a moan from the bed.

Consciousness slowly flooded Tanjin's mind and spilled into the mist of his dreams. The distant cries in the courtyard, the call of the nightingale in the garden and the sounds of woods scraping against stony concrete came to his ears. Sunlight warmed his cheek signalling a new day. Never one to be easily pulled from the sleep he coveted, Tanjin buried his face in the softness beneath his head. He inhaled sharply as he was waiting for the scent of his mother to fill his lungs. But nothing came. He felt a hand on his shoulder and then he heard someone call his name. A very masculine voice… That woke him up. He sat bolt upright, blinking rapidly as the sun pierced his eyes painfully. He raised one hand to his left temple and closed his eyes with a groan, all the while searching with the other one his dagger under the pillow. But when he met nothing but emptiness he turned frantically.

"If you're searching for this, I learn my lesson the first time." Arthur said breaking his search. Tanjin changed position and retreated against the wall like an animal trapped. Arthur heaved a sigh perhaps it was not a good idea that he'd been there at all.

"I mean you no harm."

Tanjin looked wary for a few minutes. His eyes travelled the room, then Arthur, measuring the roman up. He located the window and looked as if appraising the dimensions, like he was already planning his great escape or the roman's death. No one could predict which. And Arthur wondered how long Tanjin had stay with Marcus or the bishop. He should have asked.

"Coming from a roman, forgive me if I doubt!" He finally spat with mistrust.

Arthur frowned wondering again what the romans did to him for him to be so distrustful of his own blood. After all, he was part roman, just like Arthur.

"I do recall you were not completely hun!"

Emerald eyes burned into him with contempt. He was already annoyed like hell that he couldn't find any of his weapons and that Roman was acting like they have something in common.

"I am nothing like you!" He said between gritted teeth.

"I am not your enemy, Tanjin!"

"I have troubles believe you, roman, since you stole what is mine again!"

Arthur raised his eyebrows high in answer.

"I didn't steal anything! They're in the armoury, waiting for you! You would believe your mother and she was roman too!"

Arthur shouted back but immediately berated himself as he saw a flicker of pain irradiate in the green orbs.

"Do not talk about my mother!" Tanjin growled, his facial expression contorted with anger.

"Fine, I'm sorry!" Arthur conceded and Tanjin considered him again, his lips pursued in a very non-masculine way. Right now, he wanted to cry but he knew he couldn't do so in front of Arthur. His lips quivered some more before he bit into them hard to stop their dance against the chill. He settled back on his heels and Arthur did the same on the chair he previously vacated. Their eyes locked as they were both determined to get through the other. They sat like that for what looked like hours.

"Do you not have anything better to do?" Tanjin barked exasperated with the weighty silence.

"Anything better than watching you? Yes!" Arthur replied frankly.

Lancelot's cries of victory over Bors reached their ears and their heads spun at the same time toward the window. They both smiled at the realization of what had happened.

"You want me to be your slave, like the sarmatians?" Tanjin asked crossing his arms on his chest stubbornly.

"They are not my slave. Do not talk about me and my men like you knew anything!" Arthur scolded sternly.

"So why are they here so far from their country if it's not to serve Rome's selfish needs? Your needs!"

Arthur ignored his insinuations.

"I heard that Attila had slaves too. What makes you think your own people are so different?"

"I don't pretend. I had slaves… Plenty of them…Africans, Persians, Romans, Macedonians and even sarmatians..."He said the last one with an arrogant smirk. "I had them because I was a prince! They were all willing to do what I ask of them! If not… They died… The rules were clear and simple! They both knew where the power lies. Attila used to say the stronger lead, the weaker followed, head bent down in shame. I was born to be among the leaders. I don't believe a word you said! You're a hypocrite and a liar! You dare question my honour! They are your slaves; the only thing is that they don't know about it! "

Arthur turned his head, momentarily shocked by Tanjin's hateful word. How old was he to talk like this? Fifteen maybe less… maybe a bit more… He remembered then all the things Pelagius had taught him on relationship between men. He had to understand the context. What could he expect from the son of one of the enemy of Rome! What could he expect from the son of that barbarian! Yes, thinking of it he couldn't expect anything less! At this point though, he fantasized on making Tanjin choke on his own tongue.

"I don't believe in this statement. I believe that all men were born to be equal so that they could help each other build an organised society… a better world."

"Like your Rome?"

"Yes, in Rome, men as I am talking to you now, worked hand in hand to build a world of justice." Arthur replied with spirit.

Tanjin snorted a glint of amusement in his eyes. It was really as if Arthur believes in all his good preaches. Another cry caught their attention; this time they heard the voice of Galahad pleading Lancelot to let him rest. To what Lancelot retorted that in battle he would be dead, by the time he eventually catch his breath. Tanjin's eyebrows rose in further amusement and a strand of hair fell on his eyes so that his face was partially hidden. He pulled it back with a clumsy hand. He heaved a sigh.

"I am a Hun, we don't believe in fairness, but in greatness, Arthur."

It was the first time Tanjin had called him by his name, and he suppressed a smile.

"You ask me why they were here."

The boy nodded.

"They are here because they forefathers struck a bargain with the Roman leaders on their names and the names of their children, decades ago. They fight not for Rome, but for their own discharge paper. They are here because they're all men of honour."

"And children too?" Added slyly Tanjin.

Pain clouded Arthur's hazel eyes for a second at the raw reminder of Finn and he grimaced.

"Why are you their leader?" He asked again. "You're younger than most of them."

"Sometimes, I ask myself the same question. Why God choose me? I have no answer to that. Why are you here?" Arthur inquired in return.

The boy shrugged, smirking again.

"I don't know. Perhaps MY gods thought it would be interesting and downright hilarious to send me listening to your prattles."

He stated while studying his reflection in the mirror in the corner of the room. Arthur saw an emotion there, one that he could not identified. It was as if the boy didn't recognize his own reflection… as if Tanjin was two persons at the same time. He turned as he noticed Arthur's gaze on him.

"Listen, Arthur… I don't share your view of this world. By the way, I don't share anything with you. But you were right on one thing when you talked to that pompous ass, Marcus. I do know how to fight. I can do the same thing than the samartians."

He paused and stood behind the glassed window, his eyes scanning the practice field. Arthur observed the Hun swallow his pride.

Deep inside, Tanjin wanted to do anything but what he was about to do. He would like to poison all the Romans in this fort and dance in the middle of their decaying corpses. His lessons with Olivia would serve him well in this case. But in practicality, he didn't have any supplies left for such a mission and he doubt he could walk freely here. This fort was far bigger than Epithelium. He could get lost or caught again, just trying to sneak past the guards. And they were still the sarmatians problem. They came from the same land. Some of the sarmartian tribes had been part of his father's empire. They had ancestors in common. He lied to Arthur moments ago. Slave wasn't just slave for him… He was not completely unaffected. His eyes travelled the spot where Galahad thrust his tiny sword at Lancelot who avoids him easily. The boy fell on his knees, breathing hard and Aggravain strode immediately to help Galahad up. He patted Galahad's shoulder and took his place in front of Lancelot. Tanjin shook his head, his dirty locks wavering on his back. Even, if he could, he didn't have the nerve to harm these men whose only wrong were to be there. Maybe, they were soldier for the account of Rome but they had no choices in that matter. It wasn't right to them…. He could go continue to run and hide until he finds his way back to the Hun's capital and claim what was his. But then when he finally got there, he knew Rugha would probably kill him since he had claimed the leadership of the western part of the empire. Tanjin could also fight beside Arthur and hope that one day he could fulfilled the destiny his mother used to ramble on. His only hope was that even if he finds death on this stupid island, he would find his way home in the afterlife.

"In exchange of my skills, I want my freedom. I will fight for you but I want the same status than one of your knight. When they will be finished here, I will go home too."

Arthur nodded even if nothing forced him to agree to any of Tanjin's conditions. But he didn't know why he felt obliged to help the Hun, like he deserved it somehow.

"I will fight for you but for no one else, understood?" He added hastily. Then, he looked at Arthur again and filled his lungs with much needed air. He came to stand in front of the roman.

His eyes were filled with tears. But he tried desperately not to cry. No matter how many times he told himself he has no other choices, his heart felt as if he was betraying his people… He rolled his left sleeve up to his elbow and Arthur's widened at the large tattoo which marred his forearm. It was a huge claw, only the first part of an enormous pattern. The claw had been given to him at 3 year-old. It was the first part of the wolf sitting on his back, his muzzle wide opened in a scary way and the tiger enfolded on his chest. Because his father wanted to remind him forever that he was half-blood, therefore has to do more than the others to integrate the clan. So the head of a white tiger rested on his heart, his paw scratched his stomach as his body lied on Tanjin's lower back under the wolf. The wolf was the symbol of his royalty, the left claw the mark of Attila, the white tiger, the mark his mother chose.

He took his wrist in his mouth, and sliced his flesh on his sharp canine. Trickle of blood filled his throat and he latched on it for a few seconds. He handed his wrist to Arthur for him to acknowledge the sacrifice. But Arthur just stayed there bewildered, if not sickened by the ritual. Finally the roman stood on his wobbly legs and nodded.

" I will take your word, little prince."

He motioned in the direction of the door but than a glance in the direction of Tanjin and he saw the distress, the shame and the rejection there. He didn't want to offence Tanjin by ignoring his tradition but he just couldn't... He opened his mouth to say something but then thought better of it. He walked to him and put a large hand on his shoulder. He squeezed before he sliced his own palm with the dagger and then grasped Tanjin's wrist until their blood mingled. Tanjin's eyes widened in surprise as Arthur pressed his wrist to seal the bargain. True, in Hun's society Arthur would have been dead for not acknowledging his sacrifice. But then, he guessed it didn't count anymore as he was not home. A smile spread on his lips as he was satisfied with this new tradition.

"Can I ask you what makes you change your mind?" Arthur asked softly, gripping the handle, his curiosity peeked.

"I told you, I have nothing better to do…" Tanjin began amiably. "…than watch you and your men get killed on this damned island!"

"Did somebody tell you that you were impossible for someone your age!" Arthur retorted annoyed. "You seem awfully confident on your skills! Come we're going to see if you're really up for the challenge!"

Tanjin paused at the door, looking behind. He searched in the pocket of his pants until his hands fell on a little wooden box. He shook it near his ears to feel its content. If it became unbearable, he knew he had an exit door. He still has some of Olivia's blue powder.

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"He is fighting Blaez now!" A drunkard yelled at the entrance of the tavern.

And lots of the patron presents dashed for the doors, interested to see the outcome of the fight between the terrible Hun and the samartian Firestorm. Tristan watched from the corner of his eyes as Percival swallowed his bread and cheese without chewing. The brunet began to choke, his face becoming dangerously pale by the second. But Tristan made no move to help as he continued to stare at Percy with curiosity. Finally Percy grasped his glass of wine and showered his throat with it. He wiped his dirty mouth on his already dirty sleeve and stood hastily. He paused at the door.

"Tristan, you're not coming?" He asked already on his way, not waiting for an answer from the quiet scout.

Tristan watched as Percy disappeared among the crowds of patrons lining outside. A soft hand flattered his back and he turned to see Sylena with an amphora of wine and one of ale under each arms. She was really a beauty, Tristan thought as the blonde smiled kindly to an old man not far from his table. She had a beautiful shade of honey brown hair that reached the middle of her back. It was thick and shiny looking, and it called to be touched. She was no more than five feet two inches tall and her body was a bit round for her height. Her arms and legs were lightly tanned. She had a tiny waist, and nicely curved breasts that were surprisingly ample for such a small girl. She came back toward him wiping one of her tiny hand on her apron.

"Hello Tris'! She greeted. She tugged one braid of his hair and he made a move as if he was going to bite her. She feigned surprise but then giggled lightly long used to Tristan antics. She leaned to fill his mug with some sweet ale.

"Something else you need, just call Vanora!" She said pointing at the other barmaid, a russet with a toddler under her arm who was serving some travellers. The client seems to get on her nerve because she told him that if he couldn't wait for his food he could just go to hell and spare her the nuisance. Looks like Vanora was one of her full moon cycle! And the only times she was seen in one of those before had been just prior to her getting pregnant. Her hips balanced languidly as she tightened a hold on the child in her arms, the material of her brown dress stretched against a belly. He hided a smile and glanced at the blonde again. He noticed the twinkle in Sylena's blue eyes and he knew that she was aware of it too. But as any sensible woman would, the little blonde didn't comment on it.

"So tell me, my husband is all over the Hun these days! What so special about that boy?" She said as she took a sit beside Tristan.

Tristan inwardly smiled. It was a common knowledge that he was the less forthcoming among the knight. It was part of the package of being a scout. He couldn't go and just spilled his life to anybody. Of all the people to ask for gossips he was probably the last on the list. Though, the only one person who will have the nerve to question him like this would be Sylena.

"How will I know? Tristan simply replied.

"Tristan, my strange little brother!" She said excitingly leaning on the table, her heavy cleavage almost spilling from a dress. Sylena called every one of the knight her little brother. She began even before she was married to one of them and she did it even when like Tristan they were older than her. "You always know everything." The eighteen-year old sweet-talked him shamelessly. Sylena was actually quite good at flirting to get what she wants.

He frowned slightly and then crooked one of those mysterious smiles that made Sylena jumped in anticipation. The blonde just loved a good gossip. She likes prying in people's little secrets. And she was dying for some new anecdotes she could share around with the other barmaids. He stayed thoughtful a minute or so. If Tristan didn't have an occasion to see once Attila with his own eyes, he wouldn't question the boy genealogy. But no, he remembered that day vividly. And Attila looked like everything but frail, so anything like Tanjin.

" _Tristan come with me! His mother cried out frantically as she reached for him on the bed. "The Huns are coming! Fast dear, we must go now!"_

_He scrambled to his feet and followed her as she grasped her scabbard and some weapons. _

"_You're going to be a brave boy," she said crouching before him pulling a fur coat over his shoulders. Tears ran down her cheeks as she let her fears clutched her heart like a vice. She inhaled sharply, willing to be strong for a son. She would not let fear stop her! She would fight for him if necessary! "I love you, my sweet boy! Everything will be alright, you will see! Don't be scared of the 'Big Wolf'! Mommy will not let him catch you!"_

_Illyria drew the sword out of its scabbard and pulled the sack of provision above her head. She grasped Tristan's hand tightly and drags him toward the entrance, processing a plan of escape. If they could make it to the meadow to find a horse, they would have a chance at surviving the fury of the savage Hun. _

"_But father!" Tristan whined as he reluctantly pulled away from his mother's grasp. He knew his father and a few other men went hunting two days ago. But what if he couldn't find them after?_

"_He will join us later" She replied pulling him again to her. He shook his head irrationally. He couldn't abandon his father behind._

"_Dear, you know he is the best scout ever! Finding people is what he does best!" She replied hastily._

"_Come Tristan! We can not waste more time!" _

_They both stepped outside. The village was in turmoil. He heard screams of horror and inhaled for the first time the bitter scent of blind terror in the air. People jostled as they ran in all directions. There was a burnt smell in the air. His mother paused in the middle of the field and Tristan followed her gaze. He tiptoed unable to see anything past the people running around. Then the ground began to shake under him and he felt her hand gripped him tighter. When the crowd of people dissolved in front of him, his blood froze in his veins. _

_Hordes of bloodthirsty Huns were charging right on them with their brown stallion. He saw_ _gardens, tents and people collapsed under the hooves of these monsters and he was paralysed as he thought he would share the same fate. But two strong arms enfolded him in their safety and he felt his mother lift him in the air. They ran as fast as his mother's legs could carry them both. They were corpses lying in puddle of dark blood everywhere he looked. Illyria crawled behind a tent, avoiding being on the path of the cavalry at the last second. But unfortunately, some of her relatives didn't have the same luck. She witnessed Roxana her young cousin being stabbed in the chest than marched over by a wild horse. She muffled a scream and clutched tightly both her sword and Tristan while she continued her frenzy race to the meadow. But as she came closer, reaching for her mare, another horse blocked a path. She dropped Tristan on the ground as a hoof knocked her backwards. Tristan stood and tried to stir his unconscious mother. But she didn't move. He kneeled over her and fight to get the sword clasped in her hand. _

_He froze as an enormous pair of leather boots stood before him. His eyes travelled the figure from head to toe, probably not in this order as he was minuscule in comparison of the Hun warrior. Tristan swallowed with difficulty as the man pulled off his helmet revealing long unruly hair shining with sweat. He wasn't a giant by any means, but he was still ten times taller than the eight-years old. He had a large head, with piercing dark eyes though they were small. He had an arrogant nose and a hairy goatee where he could see stains of blood surrounded his well-defined lips. Even processing with his childish mind, Tristan knew instantly that he faced the king of the Huns. He knew it because of the blood tainted his beard, the last testimonies of Attila's last feast on small boys. Tristan's legs quivered under his weigh but he fight to stand his ground in front of the large man. His swarthy complexion was covered with blood and dirt like he had ridden a long way. His large sword grazed the crook of his neck and one of his broad shoulders as he moved. He harboured a haughty demeanour and Tristan tried to swallow the lump in his throat. He could do this… He wasn't afraid… It was just a legend that the Huns eat peoples for lunch. It wasn't even time for lunch… _

_The man stopped in front of Tristan and his unique reflex was to lift the sword of his mother in front of him. Attila opened his mouth to talk to him but Tristan didn't understand anything. The king took another step forward, asking Tristan if the woman behind him was his mother and if he was ready to challenge him to save her life. But seeing the boy had no answer for him, and surely don't understand him, he didn't press the matter further. Though he admitted inwardly finding the unconscious woman appetizing, he momentarily lost interest in the question as his eyes surveyed with a swift motion the burning village. _

_Tristan couldn't help step back a little. His arms hurts as it took all his strength and will to raise the sword. He saw Attila glanced around, his eyes evaluating the state of the battle behind him. Then his eyes locked on Tristan again and the young boy licked his lips apprehensively. Attila rolled his eyes to the heavens and Tristan blinked away tears. He was terrified, his legs were shaking but he wouldn't leave his mother's side. What Tristan did actually was something that takes some kind of courage! Attila thought quite pleased. If it was his son he would have been proud. _

_He reached for his own sword and Tristan's eyes widened in horror as he thought this was the very moment he signed their death. Attila raised his sword in the air and it was like all the elements listened to him at the same time as noises of the battle suddenly died down around them, at the same time than a chilling wind enveloped the plains. With one sudden strike, the sword of his mother broke in two and was sent flying few feet away. He muffled a cry. He would not cry… No… Two horses arrived behind the King and he saw two boys dismounted from them. Attila told them something in his dialect and they both smiled, pulling off their helmet. They were taller than him but both shouldn't be more than fifteen. They were both in battle armours and they stepped toward who Tristan understood was their father. The older one had dark hair, his face looked pale and a scar marred the right side of his cheek. The other part of his face, his brow and hair included were covered with caked blood. His brown eyes were deep-seated and malicious; he constantly wore a maniacal grin on his face. He glared at Tristan scornfully. The other one stood in retreat of the carnage and was busy cleaning up his dagger with a cloth. His eyes were of a rich amber colour, with a soft intensity. His skin seemed made with bronze. He was the only one who didn't appeared too battle worn. Even his front plate looked clean. The only clues that he had indeed participate in the bloodshed was his hands red with blood. _

_Attila asked them a question, pointing his mother and him on the ground. And the 'maniacal' one snickered while the other one became thoughtful for a second. The 'maniacal' one told something to Attila and his father patted him proudly on his head. _

_Attila handed him the sword and he motioned toward Tristan. He just proposed his father to kill the boy and take the mother as a slave because she appeared quite beautiful even in a state of unconsciousness. But before he could strike the final blow to Tristan, his brother stopped him, hand on his shoulder. He explained something to the king and Attila seems to consider his words wisely before he finally nodded, looking equally pleased if not more, by his second son's assessment. Tristan saw a cloud of anger passed in the eyes of the maniacal one as he handed back Attila's sword to its master. He didn't know why but he heaved a sigh of relief. The other one hurried in the meadow and grasped the reins of Julani, his uncle's white mare. _

_He walked to Tristan and handed the boy the reins. He raised his eyebrows high when Tristan didn't move then say one of the few samartian words he has knowledge of. _

"_Mount." He ordered and Tristan did as he was told and climbed easily on Julani. _

_Attila kneeled over Tristan's mother, trying to shake her awake. And the boy muffled a moan as the king bend over her chest to see if she was dead. But Illyria finally opened her eyes and immediately went screaming and kicking Attila off her. The king groaned and grabbed her by the waist without warning and lifted her on horse back like she weighs no more than feather. She stopped struggling when she realized what happened. _

_Attila grasped her by the mane, feeling her incredibly soft hair under his touch. He loved that in a woman! He pulled her firmly toward him but none too harshly. He breathed in her sweet womanly scent before he whispered in her ears in a perfectly fluid sarmatian. _

"_Your son was brave. He stood for your life and even confronted me. My son here," he pointed out in the direction of the brown-eyed one who stared back at the woman wistfully. She noticed that he looked like his father except for the expressions they wore. While his father instilled fear in people's heart, the boy conveyed only kindness._

" …_decided to spare your life. You shall thank him, woman, and go your way. I advise you to never cross our path again. My mercy has about as the same limits as my patience. More often than not, they don't go both the same way."_

_Attila was satisfied when he heard Illyria thank the goodness of his soul. And having more important matters to do, he stalked away followed by his scarred son. _

_Illyria nodded to the other prince and confounded in thanks. She would not be proud when her son and her, had a chance to survive such a massacre. He walked to her. His eyes shone little golden sparks as he watched over them and allowed his bloody hand to shuffle the younger boy's braids. He took Illyria's hand and gave it a squeeze. He seemed to think some more and finally told her: _

"_Be careful, lady. The road's dangerous. I wish you and your son farewell." _

_Tristan didn't know at that moment if he purposefully mocked them or really feared for their safety. It seems for him though that the Huns were the only danger here._

_The prince undid the belt of his scabbard and handed them his Scythian scimitar. The scabbard was adorned with gold and precious gems._

"_It's for you in replacement of your sword. It has served me well so far. I hope it does the same for you."_

"_I can't… It's too much…"_

"_Take it, lady! The roads are not safe!" He insisted. "I need to repay the sword your son lose while protecting you!" _

_She secured it against the horse flanks._

"_I could never repay you enough, my lord!"_

_Tristan nodded quietly in agreement his eyes never leaving the strange curvy scabbard. _

"_What is your name, my lord, so that my son and I could praise your mercy and your immense generosity to those we will meet on our road?" _

"_My name is Keda, lady. But I tell you now; there's no need for praise. You should go! I'm afraid father doesn't have much patience when on campaign. He already finds you too beautiful to go to waste! He commented wryly and Illyria quirked an eyebrow at that. Such a small boy already talking like a grown man!_

_He slapped lightly the horse, stepping away just as Julani spurred in direction of the south.  
_

It was the first and last time he saw Attila and the Huns. They moved to a village Rhoxolani in the southern part of Sarmatia… The same village than Lancelot… And his father, like his mother had predicted had joined them two weeks later. All in all, Tristan had trouble believing that Tanjin even with all his misdeeds was the son of the scariest barbarian king of this era. There was definitely more to the story than the Hun let on. However, instead of telling Sylena that, he quietly finished his plate. A man called for the blond barmaid but she royally ignored him. Instead she ran to the kitchen, then back to Tristan an apple in her hand. She smiled wildly giving him the fruit of corruption, part of another on their game. He nodded to her in thanks and move toward the exit. He glanced fondly toward the chubby blonde as she backhanded her patron whose hands were too adventurous.

"I am not your wench, so if you want something you better ask nicely if you don't want me to shave this beard of yours! And what were you thinking calling my name like this? I was having an important discussion! Should I ask my hubbie to sever that empty head of yours from that mucky body? Idiot ! " She snarled, hands on her hips. She left the man bewildered gaping blankly like a fish and headed to the kitchen.

"He is not what he pretends to be!" Tristan said in her ears as she went by him. Before she had time to react and ask for more, Tristan was already gone. She sighed truly disappointed, but then she stole Vanora's number two from the arms of his mother. If she could not have a daily ration of gossip goodness, she could easily settle for some baby cuddling.

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Blaez growled as his body met brutally the ground. He searched his mace with his hands and pushed himself up with a groan. He faced again the boy and almost yelled in frustration as the Hun observed him coolly, his head tilted on the side, his raven wild locks blown in the air partially masking his face. It was as if the boy was taunting him. The idea alone sends him further down the road of anger. He played with the mace in his hands and rolled it nimbly through his strong fingers. He was seriously about to break some hunnish bones. Without thinking, blinded by pure rage, he charged again.

With a critical eye, Tanjin evaluated Blaez's posture and predicted easily his next move. He stepped at the last second aside, an arrogant smile on his lips as Blaez tumbled on the floor again. They were cheers in the crowd of gapers and shout of encouragement for Blaez from the other knights. Seeing red, Blaez got up again, letting his iron mace grazed the stony ground until little spark fly in the air. He lifted the mace high and landed blow after blow against Tanjin's sword forcing him to kneel under the shock. Tanjin's face contorted in pain as he tried to fend off Blaez's attacks. Soon enough though, his wrist hurt simply from trying and his own sword quivered in his hands.

Blaez stepped forward, his determination reinforced by the expression on Tanjin's face. Tanjin grunted from all his efforts to maintain his position. Sweat poured on his brow and his tanned skin gleamed under the afternoon sunlight. His wet hands slithered on the handle and he winced as the warm metal burned his palms. He let go of the sword with a groan and watched as the blade soared above his head and landed behind him. When he thought that knowing he had win will satisfied Blaez, he was nowhere farther from the truth. And he realized it the hard way ad he felt the spike of the mace embedded itself in his shoulder sending him crawling in the dirt.

"Blaez that's enough!" Arthur shouted from where he stood.

But Blaez did not listen, he continued his assaults against Tanjin with a renewed force. A sadistic laugh poured from his throat as he spun the mace in motion above his head. Tanjin rolled on the ground, wincing over the bruise on his left shoulder but avoiding successfully each blow. And when he saw the right moment, he kicked Blaez's hand, sending him backwards. He jumped on his feet on the gasps of the crowd and sent another kick in Blaez's face. He jumped back, his small frame moving in a blur and sidekicked Blaez with all his strength making him gasping for air. He let go of the mace with a moan and drop down on his knees. The blonde leapt again for Tanjin with his bare hands but Tanjin just batted him back down to the floor easily and jumped on top of him. He pinned the powerful frame of Blaez on the floor, and pulled his dagger out and promptly drove it down towards his chest. Arthur broke into a run and thought he could never arrive in time. He thought they will all watch as the hun killed blaez while training. But before he could break through skin, Tanjin paused calmly and stared directly in the depth of Blaez's dark eyes.

"I win !" He announced loudly to the crowd around them. Arthur stopped dead in his tracks and allowed himself to breath again. Blaez threw the boy off with a scowl of disgust and got up immediately. Tanjin sat a moment, his breathing laboured but grinning like the cat who eat the mice. If there was something on this earth that he loves more than Honey cake for dinner and more than a new weapon forged in the flame of Hungary, it was the intense feeling of pure bliss that followed a victory. Blaez grunted as he get through Arthur and spat on the dirty soil rudely, not far from Bors who would have been already on his way to throttle the conceited blonde's head if Percy hadn't reached for his arm and asked him to wait. He would talk himself to his cousin, but not now Blaez never listen when he was in that frame of mind. Bors shrugged but stared with a disapproving frown at the retreating form of Blaez. A man should learn to accept defeat in the hand of a stronger opponent, he thought, not that it ever happened to him. Alright, maybe once or two, but it was still different!

"You did good !" Tanjin heard Arthur compliment him but he didn't give any sign that he did pay any attention to the roman. Instead, he pointed at Lancelot with his dagger.

"You!"

Lancelot gave him a feral grin in answer to his challenge and walked slowly to the middle of the field. But before he reached the Hun, another opponent presented himself on the practice field. And he watched as Tristan unsheathed his curved sword and invited the Hun to "dance". He smiled as he settled back on an old stone. He could watch. Things would definitely be interesting.

Tanjin grasped his sword tightly, assuming a fighting stance. He contracted his sore shoulder with a soft moan and he began dancing around the immobile figure of Tristan. Soon, his stillness unnerved the Hun. So Tanjin decided to make the first move. With a roar, He lunged at Tristan trying to catch him off guard. Tristan easily sidestepped him and swung the blunt side of his sword back at the same time to catch him as he went past him. Pain travel through his skulls and Tanjin plunged on the ground. He kicked his legs under him and was back on his feet in less than a couple of second.

Tanjin thrust again and Tristan dodged his attack effortlessly, trusting back his curved sword in swift and precise motions. Tanjin tightened his hold on his sword. It started to weigh a ton on his shoulder. He tried to repel Tristan's thrust but he clumsily skimmed on the ground, the tip of the curved sword tickling his throat. Tristan stepped back quietly and sheathed his blade back in his scabbard. And just like, this the fight was finished.

"How did he do that?" Whispered Andreas in Callan ears.

"He is Tristan; it is answer enough, no?" Callan replied.

Lancelot smiled and shook his head. It was true that Tristan was great with his blade but in this particular fight, he had some help. Tanjin wasn't much of a swordsman. Yes, he was a good fighter and he had some incredible moves going for him. He was really mobile when fighting and nimble like one of those annoying squirrel. But his sword seems too heavy for him and that's why he kept loosing it. He looked like he couldn't find his balance with it. Realization dawned on him that maybe it wasn't Tanjin's sword. He remembered that Arthur spend hours training with Excalibur before he was able to swung it in a fight. He has himself spend an awful amount of time training. He watched as Tanjin's hands tightened their grasp on the handle.

"Come back sarmatian!" The boy ordered with authority. "We're not finished here!"

Tristan's eyes sparkled slightly surprised but without comments he unsheathed again his weapon.

And then they began to dance around each other again, each thrust pacing on the clamours of the crowd. Thrust and thrust and parry… Thrust and thrust and duck… Tanjin's mind focused on his defence while trying to ignore the pain in his sore shoulder. He thrust again… He could do it! He knew he could! Dodge… Thrust and parry… He grunted as his mind became hazy while his eyes watched the events unfolded in front of him in a blur. He was beginning to get tired of focusing. And his movement grew inaccurate.

"_Thrust again, little brother, this time don't be a girl, try to keep your eyes open at the same time! " A taunting voice told him. Tanjin bared his teeth at Talika. And the brown-haired took advantage of his inattention to strike again, making Tanjin lose his balance as he tried to step back in stupor. Talika spun again, in her flurry of members, his brown hair whisked the air around him. At eight year-old, he was older and more experienced than Tanjin, since prince like them began to train since the age of five. The issue of the fight was very predictable. He swung his wooden sword again and this time it smacked Tanjin's wrist roughly. _

"_I will always be better than you! You're the youngest after all. " Talika sing-sang teasingly, with one of his boisterous laugh. Tanjin fell on the ground hard. Life was incredibly unfair. Talika was taller, smarter and stronger than him too. How can he defeat such an opponent? It wasn't Talika alone. He would always stay the youngest. He would never win. He stared blankly at Talika's retreating form as he run to meet their father. He watched as Attila's stroke Talika's shoulder… A burst of jealousy surged from deep inside as he saw Attila mount his warhorse and help Talika behind him. By the time, they disappeared from his point of view; tears flowed from his green eyes. He decided right then that he hated losing. _

Tanjin felt Tristan's hands wrapped around his right wrist, his sword once again under the hun's jugular. He blindly kicked the sarmartian away but Tristan barely flinched. He pulled roughly Tanjin against his chest, sweeping the ground with his left leg and bringing the boy to the floor with him. When Tanjin fight to scramble to his feet again, he pinned his arms by his sides and sit quietly on top of him. Tristan leaned heavily onto the petite form and whispered in his ears a smirk on his lips.

"I win again!"

By the time Tanjin find the strength to struggle again, Tristan was already gone, standing a few feet in front of him, a strange smile on his lips. Emeralds irises narrowed questioningly and scanned the crowd around them. Some acclaimed him or Tristan, some even both at the same time. Lancelot stared at him attentively. Arthur nodded in his direction. His green eyes met a curtain of dark hair again. The wind blew on both their face, lifting a whirlwind of dirt around them. Tristan's eyes sparkled in recognition as if he discovered something new. As if he saw Tanjin for the first time. And even if the young Hun was ready to cry, his ego deeply wounded, he was glad that Tristan recognised him at last. That was the last thing he saw before he rushed out of the field in a hazardous direction.

He ran as fast as he could, the road unthread in a haze before his eyes. When he did stop, he was in front of the battlements. He quickly climbed the stairs and he gasped in relief when an ocean of green grass emerged below. He sighed, wiping the tears on his face. It wasn't a good idea to stay here! He realized that no matter the distance between Britain and his own country. He couldn't forget. There was always a memory that assaulted his mind. And it hurts to say the least! It hurts like a bloody bitch would say Keda !

"_How do you do that?" Tanjin asked Keda as he pulled his sword back into his scabbard. He watched with admiration the iron blade slipped in his case until the only thing left was the ivory handle with a garnet decorated the tip. His brother always had the finest swords with the most sophisticated adornment. Keda wiped his brow with a cloth and looked back to where Diggizzikh, their giant of a brother lied unconscious. He smirked and straddled the stony ramparts beside Tanjin. Tanjin handed him water and he nodded gratefully, drinking a mouthful then showering his face with the fresh liquid. Tanjin looked at Diggizzikh again. He was twice Keda's height, and the brawniest of their brother. His muscles were harder than a thousand bricks wall. Beside him, Keda looked like he didn't stand a chance. Nevertheless, he managed to knock Digg out cold. _

_Four servants ran toward them. Three men helped Diggizzikh on his feet and carry his heavy body to his room. And a honey-brown girl kneeled in front of Keda a basket of clothes in her lap. She hovered over him and he gently pushed her away. She pouted at the rejection but he kindly kissed her hand in thanks. _

"_I don't need anything, Zara!" He told her as she blew softly on his bloodied knuckles. _

_Tanjin crossed his arms on his chest with a surly expression. Didn't she see they were having a conversation? Damn stupid slave! As if she heard Zara turned and seems to notice the youngest for the first time. The brat made a disgusted face at the two and particularly glared at the girl. Keda hided a smile as she immediately scrambled to her feet and scurried toward the kitchens._

_He started to laugh when the brunette disappeared behind a wooden door. He leaned in a confidential way. _

"_You know you looked just like your mother a few minutes ago!" He said fondly. He was thoughtful for a minute or so and then he added. "Yes, you definitely inherited the wildness in her gaze!" _

_He shuffled Tanjin's hair playfully._

"_You know what Tan, it doesn't matter to win or not. In battle, it's not what counts !"_

"_You said this but you always win! " He replied with a sullen look on his face. 'I could never be like you". Tanjin wanted to cry but it wasn't very manly to do so and especially in front of Keda. What would he think of him, if he showed himself weak? _

"_I always win but I can assure you Tan that it's not what matter to me! What is important, is giving my best in what I do ! No one is perfect ! You and I are not perfect !_

"_But Father said that…"_

"_Don't you listen to everything father said?" Keda said with a frustrated groan. _

_As he grew older he was becoming unbelievably insolent when talking about Attila. But still, he stays the favourite in the king's eyes. And people began to whisper behind closed doors that at Attila's death he would gain the leadership of the empire. The thought just crossed Tanjin's mind that maybe it was precisely because Keda never miss an occasion to challenge their father's authority that he was still the favourite. _

"_What's important to me when in battle is to fight for those I love! I fight for my people, for my blood, for my family ! I gave my best for you when I fight, Tan! That's why I am the best because I fight for a cause! This cause gave me strength! Without a cause of your own, it's true you will never win!" He finished wisely._

_Tanjin immediately stood on the wall, his seven-year-old minuscule frame level-eyed with Keda. _

"_I will fight for you and mother! You will be proud of me!" He assessed and Keda pulled him close against his sweaty chest. _

"_Giving the best you have, that's s all I ever wanted for you! I'm already very proud of you, Tan!" He said as he kissed Tanjin's forehead like a father would his child. _

He heard a disturbance in the air behind him and turned to see the brown haired healer two ramparts farther. Melan glanced around too and his eyes shot in surprise when he located Tanjin. The Hun noticed that the other boy had been crying too because his eyes were puffy and red. He wiped his own face again and got up to leave the battlement. But then a whimper made him stop mid-tracks and he headed toward where Melan was sitting. He crouched in front of the other fourteen year old and offered an awkward smile. During a long pregnant pause they both keep quiet but than Tanjin impatiently asked.

"Why are you crying?" Subtlety had never been one of his strong suits.

"Nothing important."

"Is it a habit for you to cry for no important things?"

He asked than strangely berated himself because he was not one to talk. But then he had an excuse sometimes he was not really himself. He shook his head. He was Tanjin, born son of Attila. He could do every damn thing that pleased him even if it was cry a river above his wounded pride.

"I saw you fight!" Melan told Tanjin, his shoulder slumped in defeat. "You seem fearless in front of the pain. It was like nothing could reach you!"

Tanjin was about to explain that fearless didn't began to cover the whole situation. The fact was that he was long used to pain. It was just something he had to live with. He always had to fight his way in life to stop being the last. The only times he didn't have any effort to do was when he was with Keda… or his mother! But then his mother's point of view was long biased. She had only him. But more often than not, each memory he had of childhood good or bad was accompanied with some physical pain. He broke his wrist twice and his ankle once. He dislocated his shoulders fourth time at least… No fearless would definitely not be the appropriate word! And witnessing the distress in Melan's soft gaze, he decided to tell him just that.

"No, I'm not _fearless_… Whatever that means for you, samartian… I don't even know someone who is!"

"But you were not scared to challenge Tristan! And he is one of the scariest of the lot!"

A sour expression clouded Tanjin's face. That little titbits of information reminded him that he lost against Tristan… twice to be precise.

"You fight well! I can't fight like that! Assured Melan. "To tell the truth, I'm pretty useless on a battlefield."

"Duncan told me you were a good healer!"

"I'm an apprentice. I can't do miracles."

"They seem comforted to have you there!"

Melan looked at him hopeful for a second or so, and then sadness shone on his hazel eyes. He failed to save Finn! Tanjin finally sat down, his hands on his lap.

"I'm not as strong that you think I am?"

"Really?"

"Yes."

"But you lived alone and what you did to those Romans…"

"I'm not…" Tanjin insisted. "My parents are… gone and I wasn't strong to prevent any of it. I didn't choose to live alone… I was forced… I'm not strong. I put up a good front… And yes, I could fight until my knuckles are bruised, until my arms and legs ache and until my chest is constricted with pain… But strong I'm not…" He took a deep breath, his hands quivering at the admission.

"… Strong is just a word. A word like massive walls made to keep your heart from danger. But you have to know that sometimes it just doesn't work that way. You are a good person. I rarely ever meet someone as kind as you."

He said as he recalled the way Melan had helped him the first day without asking for something in return, not even his gratitude. He didn't know why, but he thought he should make amends to that one. Because Melan didn't really deserve the treatment he gave him.

"Perhaps battlefield is not a place for someone like you but I know the other knights care for you, no matter how clumsy you are! If you are afraid in battle, remember that I will be behind you each step you take. I will satisfy my thirst for revenge by killing your enemy."

"Tanjin?" Melan began but Tanjin stopped him, hand lifted. He really did have the manner of a lord.

"Don't you dare say anything? If I heard that you repeat any of this conversation, I will hang your body on this very battlement. Am I clear?"

Melan smiled and nodded gratefully. He bent over Tanjin's shoulder and felt it under his fingers. Tanjin winced but refrained from pushing the healer away, even if he did hate being touch by strangers.

"I have a healing salve. It will help subdue the pain. "

Tanjin nodded and they stay there a bit longer. They watched the grass turned orange under the last lights of the afternoon. The day was closing into darkness, the sky fading from the turquoise of daylight into a rich cobalt dusk. A light dusting of stars was beginning to appear in the heavens. Tanjin and Melan yawned at the same time. Tanjin smiled, he just found him a cause to fight for. It wasn't the most noble cause of the year, but it would do for now. He would win.


	8. A Hun sitting at the round table

Un royaume au-dessus des nuages…

Sorry for the long wait guys! This is two particularly long chapters to compensate. I want to thank every one of you that will take the time to read my story. Special thanks to OP and Delph! Each of your review really highlights my day! I also made a fanart of the scourge, because I have a hard time describing the girl I pictured in my mind. You can find the link in my profile page or directly copy this one in your browser.

http/perso.wanadoo.fr/mylifeisyours/Tanjin.jpg

Hope you enjoy! Fair warning it is not exactly how I wanted her to be but it is close enough. These two chapters are an original chapter of 35 pages. Definitely too much for a fic chapter, so I decided to cut it in two parts. I hold this chapter in hostage for so long in my computer that I just felt like releasing it right away. So again I apologise for all the possible mistakes. And I will probably correct any mistakes you point out to me. It is a very long chapter but I still felt like I omitted something or like it doesn't go anywhere. So I beg you again to review and let me know how it went… Review please, please, please, pretty please!

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A Hun sitting at the round table…

Chapter 8

"Try again, Tanjin! Not so slowly this time! Swing it higher! That's it! Give yourself a better angle to strike!"

Lancelot repeated for the hundredth time at least as Tanjin reproduced the moves he had taught him. He swung his sword in the air while his dagger parried another invisible attack. He had been training for a while already, and beads of sweat were forming on his forehead, unneeded proof that he was giving the exercise all he had. He whirled around and came back in his initial defensive stance, the handle of the sword spinning in his hand like Lancelot showed him. Unfortunately when he wanted to do the same with the dagger, the blade cut superficially his wrist. He winced losing the dagger but whirled again the sword above him, his left hand immediately supporting the heavy handle.

A wooden stick slapped his hand lightly and he raised his eyes to see Lancelot shaking his head in disapproval. He did it once again. He had used both his hands to support the weigh of the sword.

"I will do it", He replied through clenched teeth, shrugging Lancelot's stick away. He drew a deep breath and repeated the motion again, determination showing in his eyes. But Lancelot could tell he was exhausted.

"It's enough for today!"

"No again! I can do it!" He retorted as he picked up the dagger.

Lancelot hided a smile, he had never met anyone so stubborn before. It almost forged his admiration. His eyes wandered through the field where each knight was training in a specialty. Lancelot sighed. At first, he didn't want to have anything to do with Tanjin more than what extreme necessity required of him. But then one late afternoon on the road to the tavern he saw him train, trying to copy his techniques with his dagger and sword. Lancelot, even though he was not easily flattered, had joined him that day and they had spared together. Since then, Lancelot decided that if someone wanted to copy him at least he should be the one to teach them. He admitted that if not a bit too zealous at times, Tanjin was the perfect student. That crazy boy never restrained his effort and always gives the best of himself even at the sake of his own health. He never saw such a determination before. It was like he always wanted to prove a point. And to some extent, Lancelot appreciated that.

"It's alright! We will train some more tomorrow!"

"No! Now! I almost get it!"

He ordered like Lancelot was just one of his slaves, meant to do whatever he asked.

His voice grave and authoritarian was forged by years of giving orders.

Normally Lancelot or any of the other knights would just send the prince-of-the-pain-in-the-ass to the Hun's version of Hell. Almost a month now, he was still trying hard to adjust to all their different character. He was getting used to Galahad's rounds of daily new complains, Aggravain and Gawain endless tricks, Melan's spontaneous tears, Danis's crazy ramblings about his gods, Andreas and Callan's incessant arguments about the weather, and Tanjin… impossible temperament. This time though, there was a plea in the Hun's voice. And Lancelot watched embarrassed as the boy's face fell in front of him, unshed tears threatening to flow from his eyes. He nodded and awkwardly patted Tanjin's shoulder. He observed silently as the Hun performed again with not much more success. Worst, to Lancelot's greater amusement, the dagger went flying above his head, threatening on the way to slice off a part of his scalp. In a metallic thud, it crashed on the floor three feet away from them. His shoulder slumped in defeat and Lancelot saw him struggling to not cry.

Tanjin growled his frustration and a pearl of sweat slide on his frowned brow. He had work on this particular sequence for days. It was a shame, he didn't get it already! There was something wrong with him. This was the only explanations in his mind. Hecompared Lancelot, green eyes lingering on the knight's hands and arms, in search of a plausible explanation for his own ineptness. He felt those same hands squeeze his shoulder and stared in the depth of Lancelot's dark eyes.

"I will…" He began but Lancelot stopped him.

"We will finish later. A horde of desperate women are waiting for me at the tavern. I can't possibly disappoint them!"

Tanjin raised his eyebrows curiously then surprisingly… Yes it really come as a surprise for the other knight, he genuinely smiled. Something Lancelot truly thought him incapable of. Then he said something that momentarily made the dark knight speechless.

"You remind me of my brother!"

Tanjin never told them anything about his family other than his illustrious father's identity… And naturally how superior he was to the Sarmatian, because of his royal blood and his heritage! Sarmartians who if Lancelot quoted the bane were cheaper than wild dogs in his land… Thinking back to one of Tanjin's finest moment at the round table, Lancelot wasn't sure he wanted to listen to anything that boy had to say.

"Really?"

He asked a bit reluctantly as he gathered his belongings. He sat on a stony bench waiting for the Hun to elaborate. His gaze caught Bors as he brutally crashed a wooden mace in Aggravain's shield forcing the blonde on his knees. Gawain ran immediately to support his brother. He watched the two as they charged their master at the same time, shouting in triumph when Bors was successfully thrown on the ground. They made such a pair! Lancelot chuckled lightly, suddenly remembering his own charge, he sobered quickly. He was still waiting for an answer. But Tanjin continued to play silently with the hilt of his sword. Watching him play almost with the innocence of a small child made Lancelot nuanced again any prejudices he hold against him. The boy certainly lacks of education. He was egotistical, conceited and short-tempered, almost unbearable all day long. But if only he could learn how to behave and socialize with them, Arthur's decision could make some sense in his eyes.

"You have a brother?" Lancelot asked with a hint of curiosity.

"I had many." Tanjin answered shortly, not looking directly in Lancelot's eyes. When Lancelot contemplated him with a puzzled look, he added.

"My father has six…" He shook his head, admonishing his bad memory. No with Ilico, that made the count to… "He had _seven _wives."

Lancelot whistled appreciatively. His dream had a chance to come true at last. If Attila could do it… Why not him?

"Your father was a damn lucky man!"

Lancelot tapped the bench beside him with his foot, in an invitation for Tanjin to continue. But the boy did not say more on the subject. He watched patiently as Tanjin put the sword back in its case. Somehow he doubted it was the sword of Attila. Even if it was elaborate and heavy, so designed for a grown man to handle, the hilt was quite thin. The sword just didn't match with the mental picture he made of the Wolf of Siberia. The ivory carvings were just too refined…

"It was one of your _numerous_ brother's sword, huh?"

Tanjin stopped fidgeting and finally looked at him like he had heard him for the first time. He observed Lancelot with a hinge of intense distrust before his features relaxed in a faint smile. He was not so ugly once he smiled. Lancelot seeing there his opening continued.

"It's one finest sword. He must have been a mighty warrior to have his sword ornate like a jewel."

Tanjin's face lit at Lancelot's comment and he finally sat down.

"He was the best!" He stated enthusiastically. "You should have seen him fight! He was an incredible swordsman! He led many of our troops to victory. I used to love watching him train. His moves were… " Tanjin sighed at last, lost in memories, his eyes sparkling with a new found life. His head tilted on the side and he snorted remembering something. "It was his third though. Father used to say that he couldn't keep a sword for long, just like his mother couldn't wear the same dress twice."

Lancelot raised a brow at that.

"A bit vain, huh?"

"Surely you're the one to talk."

Tanjin said playfully, sending Lancelot in catatonia as the knight realized that not only he could smile but he also had a sense of humour. But like all the good things, it didn't last and his smiled vanished. His features darkened and his eyes filled with nostalgia.

_Keda crept beside him under a bunch of brown trees that adorned the White Taiga. Their two bodies were sprawled on a white blanket, their white ermine coat in perfect harmony with their environment. Tanjin clutched his hat over his unruly mane and snuggled closer to his brother for warmth. Keda grasped him by the waist and made him slide to match his position. Tanjin giggled in the process but immediately chastised himself. He was not supposed to be noisy. Damn, they were on a mission! An assignment for men only! His mother would be so proud of him when he would tell her everything._

_They heard a sound behind them and Keda's hand immediately gripped the ivory handle of his sword. Seeing that the threat wasn't a real one, he put down the blade. Tanjin watched the weapon in awe and Keda shook his head cockily. _

"_Don't even think about it!"_

"_I think of nothing at this moment." Tanjin said innocently._

"_Really, little Khan?"_

"_It only crossed my mind, I swear!"_

"_Your roman mother wouldn't like you swearing, smart guy."_

"_Keda?"_

"_That's a no! And a final one at that." _

"_Why not? You always ordered new one. You could let me train with that one. Why…"_

"_Because I like that one!"_

"_Please!"_

"_No!" _

"_Please, I will take care of it, I promise."_

"_Don't beg it makes you look desperate, so vulnerable in the eyes of your enemy."_

"_Please." _

_They turned to see a familiar horse appeared on the white hill behind them. Keda relaxed when the brown stallion paused in the blinding light of the great Sun. The horse arched slightly, his whine wandered the land carried out by the cold wind. Tanjin watched him spurred in their direction until it stopped a few feet away from them, to let his rider dismount with poise._

_A shock of brown leather boots marred the immaculate snow and Tanjin's eyes travelled the imposing figure of his father, Attila, the Wolf of Siberia. His father took out his huge bow previously secured on the flanks of Svetica and his own white cloak. Perhaps he could ask for the bow instead! Attila didn't care! He had so many!_

_Attila walked to them without a word and mirrored their positions on the heavy mat of snow. Tanjin didn't have time to notice the streaked ball of fur that accompanied his father before it jumped on him, licking his entire face and hair. He pushed away Shangar with his hands coaxing the tiger to sit quietly beside them. After many incentives and not much more success for his master, Shangar excited to be away from his mistress quarters and the boredom of the city, growled so loudly that he chased some small birds in the sky. _

_Attila turned his gaze to his youngest in mock irritation. Tanjin gulped worriedly. Keda snorted amused. Attila passed a thick rope around Shangar's stubborn head and made him lie against him with strength. At first, Shangar, like any respectable feline would, growled his frustrations out toward his nearby master. But it looked as if the king of the Huns just needed to roll his eyes impatiently to silence the tiger, who watched the strange human being with improved curiosity. Attila winked at Tanjin with a feigned complacency and he smiled genuinely for what appeared to be the first time as far as Tanjin was concerned. The boy stay mesmerized. Keda shook his head but refrained from commenting his father's antics. They lied there for what looks like hours. No words were exchanged because they didn't really need it. They were the same blood, a unique and strong mind. Their body spoke the same languages as if they were only one person. But now and there, a frown, a genuine smile, a snort dissociated them from each other, making each of them so very singular. The wind whistled a strange melancholic music against the barren tree. They watched enthralled the ballet of reindeers around the frozen lake. That day, they came back empty from their hunting party._

"_Please?" Tanjin whined, making himself comfortable against Keda's chest, as they rode quietly back home. He blinked away weariness with a hand. Behind him, Keda shared a conniving smile with Attila._

"_I'm seven and a half, you know! I am old enough." He said, finishing in a yawn that challenged to put Shangar to shame. _

"_Yes, seven years old and not riding his own horse. How should we, battle-worn warriors, interpret that?" Attila commented a hand on his chest, repressing a belly laughs._

_Tanjin raised his head to look at him, mischievously. "There wasn't any one left for me back home! It is the truth. They are too big!"_

"_So my stables are too small for your comfort. I see that a few thousands of the best stallions walking this earth didn't find mercy in your eyes. So tell me, shall I go pillaged one or two villages to find a poney suitable for you, Prince Hun?" _

_Tanjin put a finger in his mouth, smiling. _

"_Yup! That should help, yes!" _

_Attila frowned and rolled his eyes scarily, and Tanjin, realising his mistake, went on quickly. _

"_I'm sorry, father! I didn't mean it!"_

_Attila and Keda immediately departed in a boisterous laugh. Tanjin smiled, feeling caught._

"_You are two against me! It is unfair! "_

"_Life is hardly fair, little one!" Keda finally said. "But if it could make you feel better, you will get my sword one day."_

"_Really? You promised."_

_Tanjin's emerald eyes grew wide at the prospect._

"_Yes, really. Only…It will be over my dead body._

_Tanjin watched the sword than its owner for a second. He suddenly grimaced in disgust mirroring the time he had drunk an entire cup of Garum on Talika's advice. _

"_Oooh! That's gross!"_

_They started to laugh again, breaking the peace in the vast Taiga._

"No… Honestly he was not like that. He was loved by our people. His very kind nature was praised in Hun songs for children."

Lancelot was more and more astounded by the minute.

"And…He is the one I remind you of?"

Tanjin nodded again, staring skywards. The moon was chasing the sun and the day was closing in night.

"Why?"

"The way you fight… The way you help me…" He seems to be embarrassed by that admission and added in a hurry. "The women... He had an endless list of women in his life. He always said that he bested our father in the art of seduction. That was true because there was always a woman with him. He just loves to chase them just like you and they were quite happy with his attention." At Lancelot's quirked eyebrow, he smiled sheepishly. "I saw you in the tavern with the others."

"I thought you didn't like it there, little prince?"

Lancelot asked again, knowing perfectly he would hit a hot spot. He was referring to the fact that when they have to chase Galahad to bed, Tanjin on the other hand never set foot in the tavern during the night. He saw the boy blushing… or perhaps it was safer to say that he imagined Tanjin blushing. In his state of messiness it was really difficult to tell. But he knew on the sound of his voice that Tanjin was embarrassed at being caught.

"Sometimes I stayed outside and just watch for awhile." He explained.

Tanjin bent his head shyly, in a serious contemplation of his feet. He never brought himself to enter the tavern. There was just something frightening in a gathering of drunken men and bold maiden. Too much attention attracted toward him at the same time. Knowing there was more to this story, but that Tanjin was not prepared to talk, Lancelot changed the subject.

"I think I would have liked to know him."

Tanjin looked at him again and smiled widely. And it was like the last sunlight came playing mischief in his eyes and little sparks of daylight lit his green orbs.

"I have a sister and a brother too. He was still but a baby when I left." Lancelot said in return. "But my little sister gave me these!"

He said showing him some sort of warden carved in wood that he kept hidden under his black tunic. "Her name was Sarah. She always had that strong imagination. She believed she was a fairy capable of spells and such. She made this to keep me safe, me, her dear brother knight on my white horse. She said I will be capable to find my way home with it." He shook his curly head as his fingers rolled the keeper playfully as if not really believing in its magic. "It never leaves me wherever I go."

"You miss her!" Tanjin stated in shock. It was like it suddenly crossed his selfish brain that he was probably not the only one suffering from the loss of his family. Lancelot saw recognition in his green orbs and felt suddenly closer to that mulish brat. They shared the same kind of melancholy. He sighed, getting a grip on himself. A cocky eyebrow raised in interrogation, he leaned over the boy.

"I bet he was handsome and charming like me!"

Tanjin muttered something under his breath and snorted. Lancelot shuffled his hair making him yawned with the familiar act. He used to do that too! Tanjin thought but he kept that comment for himself.

"You should go find some rest before Arthur imagined another of his quest. He is working harder theses days. I have a feeling, that we will not be able to preserve that "serenity" for long".

Tanjin was about to protest but thought better of it, noticing the older knight's resolved face. He nodded and stood from his seat.

"Give me this; I will put it back in the armoury."

Lancelot suggested amiably, pointing the scabbard. His eyes wandered to his most precious possession to Lancelot's sweaty hands, barely able to conceive the possibility that these foreign hands could touch his sword. After weighing the pros and cons for at list a whole minute, he decided to trust the samartian with his precious. Lancelot stared at his retreating form and stood his arms full of blades, walking in the opposite direction of the armoury.

--

Hours later, a sleepy Arthur made his way through the forge where a busy Lancelot was working steadily a blade with a hammer. He walked slowly to the heated centre of the room and observed silently his best friend for several minutes before making his presence known amidst the metallic noises of the hammer. His eyes fell on the object of Lancelot's distraction. He studied the slight curve of the sword. He blinked a first time when he noticed the claw carving just beyond the crossguard. But his mouth really gaped open in shock as he recognized the mark.

Lancelot heaved a sigh, wiping absentmindedly the sweat on his forehead. He calmly allowed the incandescent blade to cool completely in a cold bath of water. He noticed Arthur amidst the vapour and stopped what he was doing. He smiled in greeting.

"I came from the tavern. One of your many admirers told me they didn't see you tonight."

"The brunet with the angelic face and that tremendous pair of small hips?"

"No, she was blonde…and…" He stopped when he noticed the twinkle in Lancelot's eyes. His friend was incorrigible.

"Did she look distressed enough, huh?" He asked mischievously.

"She did look distraught but again she was sitting in Andreas' lap that should explain much."

"That would put any woman out of their poor mind." Lancelot agreed his tone light. "Words spread around the fort that he is such a selfish lover! Youngster nowadays, they are always in a hurry! I should really join them."

He rubbed the sword in a soft cloth, the blade gleaming in the darkness.

"Lancelot…" began Arthur. His curly friend raised his dark eyes so they could stare at each other above the fire. His almost black orbs sparkled over the bed of reddish charcoal. They stayed silent for a few minutes then Lancelot shrugged nonchalantly and swung the sword in the air. The blade made an audible whooshing sound as it sliced the thick atmosphere in two. He smiled with satisfaction.

He handed the sword to his friend and Arthur weighed it in his left hand.

"Lighter and sharper… You are aware that it will make our little friend unbearable."

Lancelot smirked.

"I took pity on the lad. His hands are so uncharacteristically feminine. Not that we can tell him that exactly..."

"Not only his hands..." Arthur admitted. "He is just a child, Lancelot." He sighed heavily, suddenly striding out, in quest of fresh air. He was followed immediately by the dark knight. Lancelot halted his pace, his hand on his forearms.

"It was not your fault." He said, knowing the roman would protest immediately. At the same time, he sheathed Tanjin's sword back in its scabbard swiftly. "Finn's death is not your doing."

"I am responsible Lancelot for all your lives."

"What about that lazy God of yours who is supposed to protect us? Are you going to incriminate his Greatness too?" Arthur purposefully ignored Lancelot agnostic remarks.

"Each one of you is under my responsibility and I keep failing you."

"Everything is not…"

"You told me it was wrong to take him. But I didn't listen to you."

"I… Arthur, we both know, that most of the time I says a lot of things that isn't worth remembering."

Arthur looked at him dubiously. Lancelot didn't meant what he just said. It was just to make him feel better. He shook his head sadly.

"You told me it was wrong to take him. But I didn't listen to you." He repeated, in a dull voice.

"I…. I just…I thought… I thought he would not make it. There you have it! All the truth, I simply thought he was not strong enough to follow us." Lancelot stuttered. His own guilt resurfacing as he was reminded how he treated Finn. He didn't put much faith in the boy to begin with. "I didn't want to be proved right but I didn't believe in him either. I didn't give him any chance, Arthur. I was wrong. You gave him a purpose. You believed in him when no one spares him a glance and that was more than he was asking for. That is more than any of us ask you for."

Arthur heaved her sigh, not at all convinced.

"I always portrayed you as the man with all the faith. What is it that you are really afraid of?" Lancelot began again. "Is it about Finn or Tanjin? Maybe both?"

"What if I misjudge him? He is just a child and not a common one. He is the son of a heartless barbarian. What if there was nothing noble or worthy to be saved in him? What if I was wrong to trust him?"

"You will have Blaez and little Galahad, to tell you "We told you so dear commander!" I swear Arthur these two just can't keep their mouth shut!"

Arthur raised an eyebrow at this and his lips quirked at the prospect… Blaez and

Galahad… It was another pair altogether.

"What do you think of him?"

"If you're willing to give him a chance I saw no reason not to in return." He began but what he said next unsettled Arthur greatly. "The fact that his father enslaved my people and yours should become the last of our concern." Lancelot finished sourly, knowing inwardly that it would hurt Arthur. He chastised his own cruelty and explained further.

"I know it wasn't exactly what you needed to hear. I think I couldn't help mentioning that. It was just…"

Arthur looked at Lancelot crossly for a minute then his gaze softened. He should have known Lancelot would never spare him anything. Leave it to his friend to point out so bluntly what he had purposefully decided to omit!

"I want you to understand why some of us will never trust that boy. Why some, like Blaez, will never give him the slightest chance! Why things would keep becoming difficult?"

"Blaez?"

"Did you know that Blaez's village was raided by the Huns once? I think he had lost a great deal of people dear to his heart that day, though he had never talked about it. Percival told me, that it was after this that Blaez joined his cousin's family. But the Huns are like the Saxons, in this land. There isn't much that managed to survive after their passage. Incidentally, I know that Tristan's village was ransacked too by Attila but that's another story…"

Witnessing Arthur's features falling further apart, bewildered by this new piece of information, he stopped himself before telling too much. That wasn't his point.

"My point is…our people had suffered much in the past, but you already know that. That's why we trust you Arthur to make the good choices for us, until we could be free men. I never met someone like you, Arthur. My friend, you are selfless, reliable… and generous… Sometimes too charitable for your own good. You always want to right the wrong in the other's lives. I believe that there was a purpose if we fell on your command! Don't get me wrong, I still believe this is no mystic encounter."

Arthur smiled as he remembered one of their first conversations. He had said it was thanks to god they met. Despite being so different, they have so many in common. But Lancelot disagreed with him. That was one of their first arguments.

"I don't trust Tanjin yet, not because he is Attila's son, or a Hun, or an enemy of Rome, but just because of him. He is highly unpredictable. His energy is unrestrained and there is so much he kept for himself. But this has nothing to do with his origins or so I hope… I think he is hurting inside and tried his best to keep a good front, like the good little barbarian monster, his father probably wanted him to be. I think we should keep an eye on him. He appeared tough but you said it yourself he is just a child, an orphan. Easily corruptible, easily affected…led by his emotions alone. He needs us to keep an eye on him."

"People to rely upon…" Arthur finished for him and nodded.

"Arthur, I am willing to give him a chance, because everyone deserved one. You taught me that."

He stared in Lancelot's black eyes. He knew that any comments from his part would be denied by his friend. But just by looking in these irises, he knew first-hand that he had a soft spot for the Hun. Somehow, it pleased Arthur to no end and was all he needed for him to gain back his confidence.

"Arthur? Do me a favour, don't tell anyone!" Arthur looked at him questioningly, and then his eyes roamed toward the scabbard in his hands. He nodded, smiling as he did so.

--

A few days later, on a particularly sunny morning, a violent argument broke out between a certain Sarmatian rider and his roommate, the ominous prince Hun. The knights began to gather in the corridor alerted by the commotion. Their faces broke in huge knowing grins while they waited behind the doors for the ensuring brawl to begin.

"I'm not going to!" Tanjin said firmly, his arms crossed on his chest, his hips swayed on the side in a rebellious way. He looked twice his actual height when he did that. It disturbed momentarily Duncan to see how good he looked even in his present state. He averted his gaze and returned to the task at hand.

"Yes you are!" He said, gathering a set of clean clothes on his bed.

"I'm not… and that's final, Sarmatian!" He replied authority laced in his juvenile voice.

"You are. If I had to drag you by your smelly locks I will!" Duncan retorted back, his own voice shaking with irritation.

"I don't answer to you, Sarmatian Ponce! First of all when I said, I don't need to… I just don't… " He stammered pointing Duncan with his index to emphasize his point. But he fell silent suddenly as if he judge Duncan unworthy of his explanation, shards of emerald preferred piercing a few holes in Duncan's back. He stared at the other boy down with ultimate contempt. It was a look he had given a lot back in his tribe when threaten to do something he abhorred, things such as learning to read and speak different languages, eating his vegetable soup without meat, drinking his milk cold, kissing the wrinkled face of his old stone of a great-grand-mother Leda, praying the gods or again riding an horse.

Duncan let out a growl that dangerously sounded like Scourge snigger. True, he could bear his snoring, his nightmares, his scornful behaviour, his selfishness, pretty much every of Tanjin flaws on a daily basis. But he was going to make himself sick if he spend another night in Tanjin' stinking presence.

"Are you not ashamed to be afraid of some water?" He taunted while searching for some clothes for himself in a trunk.

When Tanjin didn't answer, he spared a glance over his shoulder. The Hun hadn't changed his position. And Holy god in heavens did he looked pissed? He cursed Arthur and his altruism under his breath. What did he do to deserve that? True, Duncan was an orphan since birth, that should cut him some slack and opened him some doors for at least ten more years!

"It's been a month already. And I' m not going to share my room with you any longer." He tried calmly.

But he was only met with a snort of disdain.

"You stink like a dead rat!" He yelled reaching for Tanjin's hand but the Hun moved faster and retreated against the window.

"Like **we** ask for your opinion, sarmatian." Tan taunted back, his lips quirked arrogantly.

Duncan reached for him again, missing him by inches.

"For once, you will just do what I told you!"

"I'm so not… Don't ever think about touching me, rider! Or I swear, I will add a few scars to that pretty face!"

He snarled, his eyes scanning the room for an escape. He jumped on his bed along the wall but Duncan predicted his moves and walked at the end of the bed to block his frantic race to the door.

"That's it! I'm tired of asking politely! Come with me little one!"

Losing all patience, he scooped Tanjin up on his shoulder and made his way out of the room. Tanjin screamed taken aback and pummelled Duncan's back with all his strength wishing to be released. He tried to move his legs but the other boy had the strongest grip. When they reached the corridor, the other knights filled the hall with cheers. Bets were launched, and coins travelled to one pair of hands to another.

"You are such a woman sometimes, making a fuss of nothing!" Duncan said unwisely.

It doubled Tanjin's determination to get away. The Hun grasped the handle of the door and Duncan momentarily lost his hold on him. He took advantage of it to kick his way out and dashed in the opposite way.

'I'm not a girl!' he thought, not really paying attention to his directions. 'Why they kept calling me a girl?'

Unfortunately, Dagonet stalked out of his rooms at the same time, still hazy with remnants of his drinking contest with Bors the night before. Needless to explain dear reader how the two bumped into each other. And by the time, Tanjin regained consciousness; Duncan was carrying him by the arms and Gawain, always ready to play a new trick, by the legs. They were not heading in the direction of their room. They were not even in the knights' quarters. They just kept walking through hallways. Beginning to slip into oblivion again, he heard the sound of masculine voices nearing, then the distinct splashing of water and it instantly woke him up. He began to struggle anxiously against his abductors!

"Calm down! It's just water, little one!" Gawain was trying to soothe him. That was much harder to play a trick on someone who looked about to burst into tears.

Tanjin struggled harder if it was possible. He growled, he swore and cursed them all. He even cursed their family and their future descendants too. But it only strengthened Duncan's resolves further. Tanjin used to hate horses and now with training, he was almost ready to ride Scourge to battle. There was nothing that boy couldn't do! He shook his head at Gawain, signalling him to not feel sorry for what they were about to do. To learn to swim, you have to jump! That was what Duncan's father taught him.

"If you keep struggling like this we're going to have to let you down!" Duncan warned.

"Leave me! He began to cry loudly in between new incentives. "Let me go! I don't need a bath. Please…"

Then, tears started pouring down his flushed cheeks as it became harder for him to breath. He made small noises, like a wounded animal dying. Both stared at him in shock as he shook in their hands uncontrollably.

Duncan's cerulean eyes stung in answer. He really didn't want to hurt Tanjin. Why didn't he understand it was for is own good? Why did he make it so difficult? It was just a bath for gods' sake! It was not like they were going to drown him or something.

"Let him go!" He heard someone said and Duncan looked up to see Tristan in the doorway of the baths, his arms crossed on his chest in a detached manner. Something told him, Tristan was going to make things harder for him.

"Tristan…" he sighed. "Move out of the way, he is heavy."

Tristan tilted his head on the side, and pulled out his annoying knife to pick the dirt under his fingernails. Duncan growled and Gawain's gaze wandered from one to the other. There was a certain animosity in the air, strange enough because he had never pictured these two as enemy or rival… They had even seemed comfortable with each other before. One was silent and preferred the company of his hawk, the other was not quite as calm but still he preferred his mare's company in depend of the rest of the world. If they were not the best buddies, they were friends all the same.

"Come Tristan, he is stinking!" Gawain said trying to make his tone light. Tristan gave him a cold unaffected stare.

"Do as he said!" Another voice sounded in the background as another knight surprisingly appeared behind Tristan. Tanjin felt them loosening their grip on him and soon his legs regained the floor. His tears receded as he gained back his freedom. He looked up, his gaze embracing the arch entry of the bath house. A vaulted roof crowned the foundation. The walls were recovered with paintings and grey marble, a colourful mosaic lied on its floor and a few statues stood in the corners. His eyes finally set on his immediate surrounding as he find himself in the middle of a glaring contest between Duncan, Tristan, Gawain and Lancelot. Lancelot walked toward him, with assurance.

"Now is not the time to play", he announced. "Arthur requested our presence around the round table. There were words of Irish attacks on the coast." Lancelot took Tanjin by his shoulders and led him outside.

In a secluded hallway, Lancelot took him apart. He wrinkled his nose. "You know they're right, huh?"

Tanjin averted his gaze, all his previous assurance, all the boldness of his demeanour, all of that was suddenly gone. A thousand wishes crossed his mind and his heart begged him to take the time to consider every one of them. He wished he could hide somewhere. He wished they would leave him alone. He wished he could rest. He wished he stopped feeling like he was drowning. He wished to be normal… He wished to stop being tough. He wished like crying a river right now.

Thinking he was about to cry, Lancelot enfolded him in his arm. He felt Tanjin tensed against him, his fist poised by his sides. Relaxing slowly in the friendly embrace, he finally sighed heavily. Lancelot let him rest a moment against his chest, let him sob for awhile; rock him gently in his arms, and stroked his rebellious mane soothingly. Tanjin finally broke away, his face streaked with dirty tears, looking at the knight questioningly.

"Now, let's see what Arthur has in store for us." He stopped Tan again and casually wiped his face with the cloth he kept in his pocket. He blow Tanjin's nose and shuffled his hair like a mother hen. He fussed with Tan's collar and clothes until Tanjin, frowned and slapped his hand away with a groan. There was so much he could take. Lancelot smiled satisfied he had regained his wits and showed him the way to the round table.

--

One hour later, Tanjin was sitting on one of the many chairs surrounding the table, beside Lancelot, Melan and Duncan. He yawned loudly as Arthur continued through his explanations. Arthur locked eyes with him, clearly annoyed with the interruption. It had taken almost an hour for him to explain to them the situation. They all looked like they were not paying attention.

"That's what we get at giving the barbarian a seat!" Snorted Blaez.

The blonde and Tanjin exchanged angry stares. And it was Lancelot's turn to yawn, on the verge of boredom. Callan was sleeping on his chair, his head tilting on the side, occasionally stirring to grunt. Galahad was playing papers, rocks and scissors with his immediate neighbour Aggravain. Danis was reciting his morning prayers in a low voice, obviously annoying the shit out of Bors who was ready to threw him from the top of a high cliff. Gawain was staring wide-eyed at the bottom of his glass of ale as by the time Arthur finished his little tirade he was already quite intoxicated. Tristan was sharpening his knives on an apple like always, pretending to be absolutely not interested in what Arthur had to say. Perceval was recalling the night he shared with Dana, an amazing red-haired maiden. Or so she had been until last night… In fact the only one intently listening to the young Roman was Dagonet.

"Knights!" He began as much louder as he could to stir the attention of all of them.

However loud Arthur could be though, Callan could sleep pretty deeply. His mouth opened and some drool glided from his mouth to his chin. Andreas, being the good friend he was, elbowed him in the ribs so that completely unbalanced Callan leaned with all his weigh on Galahad. The brunet who always sit on his knees on a chair, (It make sir Galahad look taller among the men) immediately lost his own balance and stumbled upon his companion of game, Aggravain, who since a child had the awful habit to rock his chair back and forth. His chair slide on the stony ground with a deafening screech and he fell backward. But as always, he grabbed Gawain's shoulder for support and dragged his drunken brother along in his fall. A deadly silent fell suddenly in the room as all eyes were directed to the two blonde and the dark-haired boy sprawled on the floor.

"Sorry!" Callan muttered sheepishly. That was all they seem to need because as one, the knights burst into a baritone of laughter. All differences were momentarily put aside as they all laughed merrily of the situation.

Moments later when they finally caught their breath and sobered, Arthur took the opportunity to continue. All traces of merriment were long gone when he announced them the orders of their future mission.

"A roman scout arrived yesterday with news from the west coast. It seems that rebels have been seen there several times. They could be responsible for the raiding of four villages that has been going on."

"Woads?" Bors grumbled loudly.

"It is not confirmed but it could be. Though there are a group of Irish warriors who occasionally raised troubles on the coast. Their presences are uncommon on this land but they already have been reported responsible for several lootings there… We'll leave for patrol tomorrow first lights!"

"Great!" Bors snorted. "We're going to break some bones. I was growing restless these days!"

"Trouble in Paradise with my sweet Vanora, Bors?" Lancelot asked with a knowing smirk.

"Even if it was, it is of no business of yours!" Bors retorted sharply.

"Your lover is a dear friend of mine! I always care for my friend! Particularly the very special one…"

"Leave it boy!" Bors shouted back.

Arthur was about to break their banter when Bors suddenly rose from his chair.

"I need to piss," he muttered to no one in particular.

"You know, Bors…" Lancelot began again in his usual taunting voice.

"Sod off, boy! Couldn't you just leave it at that! " He cut him abruptly.

"Don't speak to him like this!" Tanjin said suddenly.

"You're incredible! Did your mother shit you out?" Blaez asked irritated.

He barely has time to rejoice in the hurt he caused before he had to avoid the knife that embedded itself in the back of his chair. He took it out and planted it in the table.

"If you so want to know, why you won't come closer, worthless bastard. Reality and you don't really get along! Look at yourself in a mirror; you are the only one here who looked beaten with an ugly stick. "

The dagger would have been sent flying in the opposite direction if Percival wasn't faster than his cousin at picking it back on the table.

"Close your sodding mouth!" The blonde yelled.

"Make me, idiot!"

"Blaez… Tanjin… I think Arthur has a message to deliver to us. I believe now is absol…" Andreas tried in mediation.

"I don't talk to you!" Tanjin snarled in irritation. "I talk to the worthless wonder here."

"Stay away from our conversation!" Blaez snapped at the same time. "Who do you treat of worthless?"

"Guess…"

"You're so confident. What do you think you can do to me, ugly dwarf?"

"Is she with child again, Bors?" Lancelot asked in turn to Bors.

"Exactly the same thing I already did to you, arse!" Tanjin countered back.

"Aye" Bors nodded.

"You really think you can take me out that easily, huh?" Blaez retorted as he leapt from his chair, gripping the table hard.

"Come here and you will find out… Again! There has to be nothing you can do to stop me, Blondie arse?" Tanjin said with a cruel smirk.

Bors looked to Lancelot, then to the two boys beside them. He nodded to Lancelot and sat back. They would talk later about this. At one end of the table, Arthur leaned heavily on his chair; he brought his glass of wine to his lips, hoping he could drink himself to stupor.

"He could just drown you!" Galahad launched unexpectedly.

Tristan stopped chewing for awhile. He shifted his position on the chair and glared at Duncan. He bore a grudge on the young man because if he hadn't been so stubborn, Galahad wouldn't have this little piece of information against Tanjin. He was also greatly confused as to why exactly he cares.

Lancelot averted his gaze from Bors to check on Tanjin. That boy greatly unsettled him. Tanjin has just taken his defence for no obvious reason at all. At the same time, it could be just for the pleasure of starting trouble. Blaez and him were so alike on that point.

The fact that Tanjin didn't flinch under Galahad's attack didn't mean that it didn't affect him. He sent to Galahad one of his best murderous glare but for the first time the other boy maintained his gaze. There was a heavy silence.

"Yes, with our luck, he would just float at the surface!" Danis reasoned.

Strangely, they all nodded in agreement, some with a smile on their lips, some with a twinge of regret.

--


	9. Is a promise of rain for Britons

…Is a promise of rain for Britons

Chapter 9

"Bors, it is not the end of the world! You are already a father!" Braden said, rising his tankard of ale in the air. He pulled a strand of curly brown hair out of his eyes. "Think about it, another boy to run around. A fighter… Or a girl who will look like a mother! " He said with conviction. "When she will be of age, you will have to chase the boys away from her!"

Bors grumbled something inaudible and swallowed a mouthful of ale. Braden lifted his cup again in direction of his wife who was juggling with four pitchers under her arms.

Sylena strode over them briskly. On her path, she dropped one of the jugs on a table of Roman soldiers, before she sat the rest on their table. She was already on her way to the kitchen before Braden had time to open his mouth.

"Love, come back!"

She turned around and waited hands on her hips.

"What is it, pet?" He asked.

"I am fine." She said coldly, her fingers fiddling impatiently with her apron. He seized one of her tiny hand in his and squeezed lightly.

"Are you sure you are alright? You can always call the night off, darling. One of the girls can…" Braden suggested calmly.

"I said I'm fine! Perfectly fine! My friend Vanora stayed home for unknown reason, Clarence is doing her best to alienate me, especially seeing the house is full tonight, you and your brothers kept nagging at me for foods and drinks, and tomorrow you're just going to get yourself killed, already making me a widow at eighteen years old!" She hissed, making large gestures with her hands. "See, I have no reason to be unhappy, darling!" She snarled cynically. "Really no reason at all!"

"Syl…"

" I am not even twenty, Braden!"

"And I am not going to die tomorrow!"

"No stop it! I had enough with you already!"

She measured Bors with her eyes, but suppressed the snarl comment on the tip of her young tongue. He could see the little blonde wasn't too happy with him at the moment. He grunted in annoyance. As though he didn't have enough on his plate already with Vanora! Women!

Sylena left abruptly in a swirl of blue skirts, Braden on her tail. Bors scrutinized the two for a short time while he was drinking himself to oblivion. Braden was a fine looking man, well-built in body. He was a scary fighter on the field when he scooped his axe over his head. But he looked as lost as him concerning the opposite sex. He looked especially lost when he talked to Sylena. That eighteen-year old bit of woman had his friend wiped! He snorted. Like he could talk, since Vanora had entered his world, he wasn't quite himself anymore. His eyes diverted from the couple that was leaving the tavern hand in hand, to Dag sitting alone at the bar counter. He rose from his chair and walked over to his friend.

--

Tanjin and Galahad sat facing each other, surrounding by the other knights. Lancelot and Gawain emerged in the crowd, holding together a barrel of ale. They filled two cups with the honey brown content and sat the drink in front of the youngest. Galahad was looking intently at the girl that was sitting beside Tanjin. She was young, very young. Her hair was a strong honey colour that would match Gawain's. Her body was pubescent without being as round and feminine as the other women. She had the palest blue eyes to emphasize the perfectly round frame of her face and the more flawless and healthiest skin he had ever seen to highlight her youth. Her name sings in his ears like the name of humming bird. Amery had no flaws in the virgin eyes of Galahad. She was pure, kind and tender. Her laugh rings in the room like a bell. She was the only pretty thing he had seen in Britain. The only thing that irritated him, no he should say the only thing that infuriated him presently was the way she leaned against that stinking Hun and the way he dared touch her and ruined her at the same occasion. Damn, she would be so much better sitting beside him!

Tanjin was edgy. He was excited at the prospect of a new battle, frustrated with his unfinished business with the blonde queer, and terribly annoyed because the little bitch sitting near him just can't keep her giddy hands for her. He would genuinely slap her across the head if he wasn't so busy to glare at Galahad. The girl tilted her head on his shoulder and he wanted to scream at the unwanted attention. He stared her down with reproachful eyes but that only made her smile more. At the other hand of the table, Tristan was watching him intently and Tanjin knew he should make no mistake. Those infallible eyes could detect anything abnormal on miles.

Gawain sat on the bench near Galahad to explain the rules.

"Okay here the rules, the first to drop, are the first to be dropped. No spilling of any kind, you're not allowed to leave the table until the end, if you happened to stumble from your seat, be careful to not waste the good stuff. Is it clear?"

Galahad nodded eagerly. Tanjin rolled his eyes and for the first time Tristan thought he did look like his father.

"Gentlemen…" Lancelot announced.

"And barbarian spawns!" Blaez launched in the background while a blonde sweetie snuggled against his chest.

Peals of laughter were heard around the table. Gawain hit him squarely on his shoulder.

"Make us proud Gal!"

Tanjin pushed the girl's hand on his thigh away. Amery thought he wanted to play and redoubled her attention.

Under the cheers of the crowd, they both grasped their first drink and downed it at the same time.

When he felt the first wave of ale hitting his stomach, Tanjin felt light-headed. He grasped another cup and drank it in a matter of seconds. He had a hard time focusing while Amery was fussing all over him. He couldn't help gagging in the middle of his seventh drink, not because he actually felt full. No, because he was truly disgusted with the girl. Why was she snuggling against him was really far from the realm of his understanding? He pushed her back in place with a growl that elicited only more giggles from Amery. He saw Galahad's eyes darted in her direction, and a flicker of pain shrouded the brown irises. Tanjin smiled behind his cup of ale as he gulped the last of it down. He licked his lips waiting for Galahad to finish his. He knew Galahad has a crush on the girl. He had enough brothers to recognize the feeling when he witnessed it in other's eyes. He particularly relished in the fact that he had such an amount of control on the situation. His eyes sparkled with golden mischief while he planned his next course of action. The ale burned his stomach and he fought off a wave of nausea. He wasn't about to lose against a sarmatian! There was no way, he could allow that. He shifted position and concentrated on drinking. Five minutes later, the circle was growing even more excited. They laughed as Galahad swayed over the table and Tanjin's eyes rolled in their orbits every so often. Galahad glared at the Hun, determined to win this battle. Tanjin, Sir I-am-better-than-anyone-but-is-afraid-of-water couldn't be perfect everywhere!

He muffled a cry of anticipation when Tanjin suddenly jerked his head back looking ready to spill his guts on the table. He swayed on the side, making the crowd roared in expectation. Tanjin felt like he would be ill. No, in fact he knew with a certainty that he would be soon ill. But never would he abandon without playing all the cards in his sleeves.

Tanjin promised himself after this night he would never drink a drop of alcohol ever again. He felt Amery's breath on his neck and stiffened. She surely wanted him to throw up in her awfully red bodice! His growl resonated in the cup when he downed his seventeenth mug of ale. Feeling suddenly too hot, he pulled off of his brown overtunic over his head, battling with the material with one arm when it stayed jammed in his undisciplined mane. Galahad snorted as he was two drinks ahead of the Hun nuisance. Tanjin growled, swearing to wipe that smile of his face. He shrugged his hand off the tunic, freeing his arm at last. The girl leapt all of a sudden from her seat and kissed his cheeks soundly and especially wetly. That was really all that Tanjin could take and he bolted upright spilling the honey brown content on the table. The crowd's hollers doubled in his head and his head began to spin. He pushed against the girl who laughed even harder, confounding his brutal moves with an encouragement. Amery took him in her arms and kissed him again on his luscious lips. Galahad's eyes snapped opened and he spitted a mouthful of ale. That wasn't fair! He had won!

"Don't touch her scum!"' Galahad slurred.

"Galahad, calm down! You win!" Gawain thought he would roll on the ground to laugh at the boy's expression.

Galahad didn't listen to him as he stood awkwardly on his wobbly legs and jumped over the table to strangle his rival. Tanjin didn't see it coming as he was too mystified by Amery's boldness and also too far gone. When he saw Galahad it was too late, he was already at his throat choking the life out of him. He felt his body slide on the floor under the attack and promptly passed out on the tavern's ground… all of this on the ovation of the crowd.

--

Five days after that all so memorable experience, Tanjin still had the bitter taste of defeat caught on his tongue. He needed desperately to exert himself on a field. He needed to turn his aggression against someone. He wasn't the youngest anymore and still one had bested him! Some would have thought such a contest ridiculous! It was just a drinking contest between friends. But it was different for the Hun! First Tanjin had no friends! He admitted developing a liking for some of the knights but friends was too much of a word. And then, when he participated in something, when he invested his energy and his efforts in a project whatever this one might be, it was always with a promise of victory at key. It was always to win!

His bottle green eyes came alive as they surveyed the plains and inadvertently the Irish camp. Look at where the bastards were hiding while their scouts played cat and mice with the knights for days now! He clenched his fist on the reins of Scourge, with an impatience that was now well-known among the Knights of the Round Table. A part of them dreaded the confrontation, the same part that dreaded another loss within their ranks, so the journey to the coast had been made in an uncomfortable silence. Every eye remained trained on the leader, Arthur, as he stood on horseback above the hills surrounding the Irish camp.

Galahad watched him, breathless, afraid he would miss his command. He was going to fight for the first time after all. In less than one month, one would say that Galahad had grown so much among the men, going from the whiny brat to the whiny less brat. He followed Gawain and Aggravain everywhere and let them initiate him in the world of men. In the process, they played him a lot but for Galahad it was well worth it. He had beaten the bane! He wore his liquor better than that idiot! Gawain's advices on the topic had proved themselves useful on the long run. He also remembered the day where he had been in the path of Lancelot, Blaez and Percival and the three had thrown him in a huge barrel of wine for fun. He recalled being quite inebriated by the time he emerged from the container. With a moan, he squeezed his bruised jaw where two days ago, because of a slip of tongue, Tanjin had learned that Galahad had tried to choke him while he was too drunk to defend himself and he had punched so hard his head that he had thought his jaw mangled for life.

They observed as the Irish troops, upon seeing the knights on the hills, gathered in front of their tents to prepare. Galahad frowned. What Arthur was thinking really? If they had just gone, they would have kept the element of surprise. Now they were waiting for their enemies to be ready for battle. The waiting was driving him insane! His breathing increased as he scanned the landscape. Fifty… There were at least fifty… Fifty bunch of men taller than him… He shook his curly head, to be scared was pointless. He had trained hard and he felt ready. Galahad was vaguely conscious that after today, he will not stay a little boy anymore. Galahad's gaze met Melan's, his mare trotting nervously beside him. A single tear made his way on the healer's cheek and he wiped it away staring mysteriously in the direction of the Hun.

Tanjin stood clearly unimpressed. He saw Duncan and Gawain exchanging some silent joke. Gawain chuckled and turned to Dagonet, whose head shook helplessly at the terrible and scary sight of Bors bending over his mare to scratch his balls. Lancelot smirked pondering again what the beautiful Vanora find interesting in this brute. Arthur, next to him, watched the camp warily, and Tristan, on his left, cared for his hawk. Suddenly a single warrior shifted his weight on his horse, making his black stallion neighed loudly. Scourge stamped the ground edgy and impatient to go ride again. If he accepted to carry the stinking Hun on miles, it was not to stay for hours on a hill! All gazes except Arthur's turned in his direction and the line of Knight was momentarily broken. The Irish horn sounded in the plains, catching their attention once again. The battle was about to begin.

"I believe them ready and pampered, now," Lancelot asserted boldly, his eyes alive with the flush of bloodlust. He leaned forward, patting his black steed. Slowly, grins broke out on the faces of the men he addressed. To his surprise, Tanjin was the one who grin the wildest. He watched the son of Attila licked his lips in anticipation. He smirked back. This boy would be the death of him!

"I believe it's time to join the feast! Such an invitation could not go unanswered?" Bors finally said and they all nodded in agreement. Trained fingers moved to the hilt of their swords or felt the ring of their bow or tested the sharpness of their axes. Their mouths tightened in determination. In the middle of the crowd, an Irish warrior had begun his frantic sounding of drums, solemn and uneasy, as a warning.

Without a word, Arthur spurred his horse in motion with a kick, immediately imitated by his knights and just like this, they charged across the plain into battle.

They met with the Irish in a clash of metal and deafening cries, of fresh blood and wounded flesh, the Samartian steeds running savagely through the first lines of men. Scourge charged right on a bunch of soldiers. Six men soon surrounded him and the stallion frantically struggled to get free, kicking and biting everything on his way. He finally arched and Tanjin grasped the reins tightly and leapt from his back nimbly. He had come to anticipate Scourge's move with time, partially thanks to Duncan's lessons. His legs kicked a warrior attempting to drive his spear in Scourge's flanks. It was absolutely not because he hated that horse that he will let another took his life. It was his personal monster after all! He unsheathed his sword and in the same motion he sliced open the man in front of him, with an ease that was disturbing considering his small frame. The gore dripped on the ground, feeding the green grass. He stepped up to meet the next challenger. His sword glowed under the sun, and his competitor was vanquished under its razor-sharp edge. He moved forward a step, twirling to challenge the man who tried to sneak behind the healer.

Melan caught the dark figure of Tanjin as he brought forth frightened screams as blood spraying in a crimson deluge around him gushed out from the edge of his sword, taking away the lives of his numerous enemies. He nodded gratefully in his direction and then stepped forward with his bow to aim at his other opponents.

Tanjin growled as a foreign fist connected with his jaw, sending him backwards. He just had the time to avoid another blow. But on the other hand, he stepped away on another Irish brute and the bully man slashed his forearm with his broadsword. Before, the bastard could raise his sword again, he fell dead an arrow protruding from his throat. Tanjin massaged his sore arm whilst he turned to see where the arrow had come from. It was not Melan, too busy averting being ripped open by a giant twice his weigh. He scanned the field but saw no one. Duncan was riding through a bunch of men, Aurora's spiky and metallic hooves more effective than any of his other weapons. Suddenly an Irish came from behind and Aurora bowed and kicked him in his chest. Duncan dismounted easily and whistled for her to flee the mayhem while he took care of the rest alone. Tanjin's eyes followed Aurora for a second then settle back on his roommate who had joined the melee of men, thrusting here and there his sword in hairy chests. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he carved his way through the bunch of men. Tanjin noticed for the first time that Duncan was left-handed. A large figure on horseback moved swiftly behind Duncan and beheaded the Irish warrior who tried to sneak behind the brown-haired. Duncan clasped hand with Tristan and ran back to his melee. Tristan, his bow strapped on his back, dismounted gracefully and began his deadly dance against three warriors. A strangled cry diverted his attention, before he could come up with a conclusion… A sword caught a strand of his hair and the prince muffled a girlish cry as he felt one of his royal locks skidding in the mud. He looked who had dared and saw a frail-looking girl standing in front of him, her sword all too ready to finish her work. Her reddish hair was braided with leather and she looked all too smug for Tanjin's liking.

She chose him because he looked the smallest; she figured he would be an easy kill. But her triumphant smile faded soon enough when a malicious shadow materialized in the eyes of her opponent. She let out a shrieking cry and launched an attack…

Melan gasped, his bow quivering in his hands as one of the heavier men stepped in front of him. He just wished at that point that he had as much courage as to not run in the other direction. The Irish was broad and meaty, strapped sparsely with leather on his hairy chest. His dark eyes were hard and unsympathetic and a bushy black beard covered his mouth. His pectoral muscles played under the sun at the same time his fingers played with the hilt of his broadsword. Melan stared at his hands, ornate and filled with silver rings, with eyes wide. They were thicker than sausages. And he also believed that the man was much bigger than Bors or Braden or even Dagonet or perhaps the three altogether! This man was far too much that he could handle by himself! Far too much for him! Melan thrust his tiny sword at the man with all the strength he possessed but the giant just batted his weapon away, a mere scratch marring his arm. His soft hazel eyes widened in horror. He should have trained harder! He just knew he was going to die! When the Irish leaned to grab his arm, in an ultimate reflex, he stabbed his hand with the knife he hides in his belt. The Irish growled and hit him squarely across the face like he was slapping some annoying insect away. Melan stumbled under the shock, his lips opened and his nose made a bloody mess on his tunic. The giant caught the brown-haired by his throat and lifted him in the air like he weighs not much more than a flour sack. He shook Melan from head to toe and snickered pleased as Melan's eyes rolled in their orbits and his face paled considerably. He snorted punching the boy down hard.

Tanjin stepped forward, his sword clashing with the girl's weapon, only moment before he swung over, and drove his blade in the girl's heart. Her body didn't touch the ground before her soul reached the heavens. His eyes stung with tears but that only spurred him further in motion, as he brought his sword forth, both hands grasping the blood-stained hilt as he decapitated in one strike the man coming in front of him. He strode over the body and messily cut the throat of the boy that came after. He licked the blood that stained his lips, spitting when he couldn't find the taste of his own. They kept throwing themselves at him in a flurry of motions until he couldn't discern anything then the rich colour of the blood that stained the edge of Keda's blade.

He hurried to Melan's side when the giant sent the boy crawling in the dirt with a cruel punch. The warrior lifted his sword to finish Melan but at the last second another sword collided with his. Tanjin thrust twice before his sword met some meaty flesh. He grinned maniacally while ordering Melan to move on the ground. His sword cut through the man's underarm, slicing arteries, and the man howled in pain as his limb was severed neatly. He fell to his knees and breathed heavily.

"Do it, Melan!" Tanjin breathed as he fought off another opponent. His motions were swift and lethal as if he was just repeating a dance well-learned. Other children learn how to climb in trees at eight; at this age, Tanjin, him, had learned how to kill small girls… Tanjin roared and his breathing became raged and forceful as he pushed off the man in front of him and spun around to the ground, the sword slashing the men from his neck to his chest. He was getting more and more turbulent as he took up to fight another opponent.

"What?" Melan stuttered unsure he had heard right. Killing with his bow was something different, he thought. It was easy; he could pretend it was the wind that favoured him, blind luck that guided his arrow, the gods that claimed their tribute. It could blame someone else. He didn't have to spill blood directly. He wasn't so sure he wanted to be like the others. The ones that have already took a life in hand-to-hand combat. He wasn't sure it was right, looking someone in the eyes then ripping the life out of him. He wasn't sure he was strong enough to bear the guilt afterwards.

The bloodied edge of Tanjin's sword carved in another chest. Without taking the time to catch his breath, he demanded again with severity.

"Do it ! He is yours!"

His eyes flickered between light and dark until his irises dilated under the action of the adrenaline. It only took half a second. A thousand different emotions shimmered in shades of depths of green. Fear? Sorrow ! Anger! Blind Rage! His eyes burned incandescently, the spark once more clouded by the shadows of his past.

"_Do it!"_

_Warwulf ordered him, his hand gripping tightly his little brother's neck, almost choking the life out of him. All the men burst into laughter as Tanjin tried to stand against the callous heavy hand. He finally crawled further, his knees scorching against the concrete. His eyes were blurry with tears as Warwulf lifted him by his hair to watch the slave girl in front of him. He shook his head again. He couldn't do anything to her. He wasn't interested in making her cry. He heard the plea of her mother. And the young boy barely has to raise his eyes to guess what Rugha's men were doing to the woman in the background. The Goth's eyes widened with fear as Warwulf pushed with his boots the blade near his hands in invitation. She tried to scream but no sound came out. _

"_I said do it, little bastard!" He commanded again, his fetid breath meddling with the air, suffocating for Tanjin. He was going to be sick very soon._

"_Look at that Roman queer! Batty Roman spawn!" Rugha snickered loudly, echoed by the laughter of his men. He took his golden cup of wine and stood drunkenly on the cheers of the crowd. Tanjin felt Warwulf releasing his mane and heaved a sigh of relief… Too soon unfortunately! The scarred one picked him up once again by the length of his raven hair with less care than a dog. Rugha inhaled sharply his step-brother, and made a dramatic expression of disgust that doubled the hilarity of the crowd of battle-worn soldiers. Tanjin blinked back tears as he cursed his mother's obsession for baths._

"_Smells like a whore too!" Rugha commented, a heartless snort escaping his throat. He suddenly let go of his hair to grab his throat and Tanjin gasped for air. Rugha took advantage of it to pour the entire content of his cup of wine in Tanjin's mouth. Tanjin choked, gasped and choked again as his stomach suddenly lit on fire. His eyes widened as he tried to fix something in the large tent… anything at all really…A face… A wooden pillar…anything… but all became hazy in front of him. He vaguely distinguished Talika's uncharacteristically anxious voice in the middle of the horde! But what Talika was saying, Tanjin was completely unaware of! He felt suddenly numb and feverish at the same time! How someone could become both numb and feverish was beyond him! And he let out a small snicker at the question. Silly! It was silly really! He was silly! Silly, what a pretty funny name! _

"_That thing can tame a poney but can't hold his wine!" Rugha commented again, his eyes gleaming maliciously. _

"_Let him go!" Talika cried out as Diggizzikh strike him back down as a warning to not spoil his fun. The elder was intently looking forward to entertain himself at the youngest expense. Talika crouched back massaging his sore jaw, glaring at Digg. He saw the moment his gaze was diverted by the arrival of a pretty maid as the perfect moment to gain back the use of his legs. He knew he was no match for Warwulf, so Talika didn't even try to get close to the platform. He did the only thing he was good at. He thought! He thought harder than ever to come up with a plan. It was his entire fault if they were here after all! Tanjin didn't want to go the celebration of Rugha's victory against the Nordics! Tanjin knew that if they were discovered Rugha will not miss him. He never fails to spot Tanjin! No matter what he did to prove himself worthy, Rugha always belittled him in front of the others! And Talika felt guilty because he had insisted to get there tonight! He never consider no for an answer, especially with Tan! Pity, Attila will not be there for at least one more month! The king would have kicked Rugha's butt, leaving his skin red with his footprints! Talika's eyes widened as he come up with a new plan. A far too easy plan! Growing older make him even slower! He dashed out of the tent._

"I can't!" Melan's voice resounded weakly among the clash of metals.

"I said! Do it!"

"I can't! He is far too much for me!" Melan cried helplessly even though the giant lied there, bleeding to death on the ground.

Tanjin whirled with his sword in the air, and his feverish gaze flared with anger toward the healer. He unsheathed his dagger and sent it at Melan's feet while he kicked away another Irish, slashing his gullet effortlessly.

_Tanjin's whimpers receded ad he suddenly grabbed the knife in the dirt and felt Rugha's hold lessen on his hair. He took advantage to get up awkwardly. He stood above the frightened girl who couldn't have been more than ten years old, just a little bit older than him. He raised the knife and aimed for her heart. The blade slipped in her flesh so easily, it almost scared him at first. Blood instantly poured from her wound. She gasped on the shock, her throat emitting gargling noises as her lungs filled with blood. He never heard a sound so deafening! The girl exhaled and tried to breathe in. The noises she made when her lungs collapsed one by one under the blood pressure were unbearable for Tanjin. He realized with horror that she was drowning in her own blood, because in his numb state and his especially ineptness Tanjin had missed her heart... She agonized under him without a word or a moan. Or perhaps he just didn't want to listen to her… Even though, she didn't say anything; it was like her body wanted to sing a last time, just for her murderer, so that he always remembers what he had done that night. He released the knife and placed his bloody hands on her mouth and nose. He just wanted her to stop making those sounds. His head spun relentlessly and throbbed painfully as she weakly tried to fight him off, her hands resting on his arms. Tanjin blinked back tears. He was so going to be sick later. Suddenly a hand whacked him across the chest and he lost his balance, landing on his back in the dirt. For a long minute, he didn't know what happen. His head just throbbed too much. He registered that the horde had gradually grown silent around him and then he recognized his voice. _

"Do it or I swear I kill you, useless wanker!" Tanjin growled threateningly.

Melan shook his head, most of Tanjin's words not even reaching him. He knew Tanjin will never do him harm. He knew it deep in his heart. He was just frozen by fright. He scanned the battlefield when most of the battle had died down. Lancelot killed easily his opponent slicing him in two with his twin swords; while at the other end of the field Arthur was fighting what seems to be the Irish chieftain. Tristan was surrounded by two more men but he disposed of them rapidly. Gawain was punching his enemy down with the help of Aggravain. Galahad was crouched above an immobile form, his eyes shadowed by his own tears. He recognized that expression easily, having experienced the same feelings before... experiencing the same feelings just now… Blaez was getting busy smashing a foreign skull to pieces until Percival bumped in his back, trying to escape the fury of one devilish woman warrior. Blaez immediately hurried to his cousin's side and pushed her away from Percival with a deadly strike of his mace. Bors was calling "RUS" his boisterous voice echoing in the plain.

Bodies littered Melan's path as his eyes roamed the field. He stepped aside as another fighter appeared and achieved his giant. He sighed with relief when he recognized Duncan's short brown hair, his blue eyes also gleaming with unrestrained anger. He growled low as he saw Tanjin finished off his opponent.

"None of that!" Duncan snarled as Tanjin faced them both, feigning innocence.

"I was trying to help!" Tanjin said with a rueful smile. However, despite his delicate and eccentric facial bone structure, he looked nothing like an angel of mercy. Duncan approached him, absolutely not swayed by his pretty face. He observed most of what happened and somehow he didn't like what Tanjin did. Melan was too soft-hearted to be played with, especially on the battlefield. That could have got him killed in the first place. His muscled forearms tensed as he lifted his broadsword in front of him pointing directly Tanjin's heart. Emerald eyes met his icy blue one and Duncan saw a challenge there, challenge he was not emotionally prepared to take up.

"Don't make me hate you again, little prince !" He muttered through gritted teeth, walking away toward his horse.

Tanjin blinked back his sudden weariness and followed Duncan with his gaze.

_When Keda entered the tent followed by his most trusted lieutenants and Talika, silence fell upon the group. Keda moved in a few stride in direction of Rugha and backhanded him so hard that it send both his scarred brother and the empty cup of wine flying backwards. A hysterical laugh shook Rugha's body from head to toes. But when his brother brandished his ivory sword inches from his face, he sobered immediately and struggled to regain his freedom. He called out for Warwulf or Digg. But neither one of them was prepared to defy the favourite. In the contrary, Digg took the arm of the pretty maiden and left quickly, a few in his tow to follow his example. Warwulf stared intently at his wine like he could find in it his brain or his balls. _

"_Touch him again and I will execute my long promise, Rugha! Dying at my hands would become the last of your concern for I will make you suffer a hundred times more than this!"_

"_Words and words again, dear brother! I imagine what that tongue of yours was trained to do! Tssk, Tssk…" He shook his head in disapproval all the while grinning maniacally. "Playing the protector of the oppressed, that's what you do best Prince Keda! But really, what is it with you and the Romans?" He asked wickedly, blood smearing on his crooked nose. "I wonder what the whore gave you for you to be so protective of her bastard!"_

_Keda lunged for Rugha, his sword slicing superficially that sneaky weasel chest. He immediately felt two pairs of arms around him where his other siblings tried to restrain him. He stood again, shrugging from their grip, draped in his dignity. He stared hard at Warwulf who had regained the "courage" to intervene between the two. _

"_Don't do this! He is your brother! You can't just…" Keda silenced him with a deadly glare, without reminded him that Tanjin was supposed to be their brother too. And Warwulf quieted in front of him and looked almost apologetic. Even though, Warwulf was older, Keda was superior to him in many things even ranks. And it was not like the prince never reminds them of these as often as possible._

"_Don't cross his path again!" He warned Rugha a last time humiliating him in front of his own men. Rugga's malevolent expression was still marred by surprise. And as long as he would live, he would never forget that day! He swore to himself he will never see the day Keda would be king. He would never let that happen. "…Know that the contempt you bestow upon him, you bestow upon me… The wrong that befall on him, will wound me much the same…I will take it upon me to eradicate you from the face of this earth if the needs come to it! Don't even look at him crossly! He is mine! Do you all hear me? He is mine!"_

_Rugha's eyes nearly flashed with recognition as realization dawned on him. He smiled deviously. _

Tanjin watched around him, trying to entertain his mind with other things. He didn't need these phantom memories to help to spoil his fun. He approached Melan, not for apologizing because he was still convincing himself of the cogency of the situation. He did it to help Melan! Nothing more! A pity they didn't see it that way! After all, that was only Duncan! What did he know? He knew nothing! Tanjin didn't do anything reprehensible! He had hurt no one! The mission was to subdue the Irish! He was only trying to help Melan! It was not his fault if Melan was just too… _poncy! _That will teach him to help those sarmatians! Ungrateful bastards!

"It's alright! Alright! Melan muttered at no one in particular as he stared the ground where the giant was about to rot away under the harsh sun lights. "Everything is fine! We are all perfectly fine… I… will… I will go find the others. Perhaps they need my help."

Melan shrugged the gory vision away and surveyed the field. Carrion birds, merciless and greedy, fixed with their black eyes the corpses below them as they swept the vast sky.

Amid the gory overbid of death, the Hun warrior began to smile.

_Talika had helped Tanjin on his feet and get him out of the tent. When Keda appeared and didn't spare them a glance, they knew they were in deep trouble. _

"_Go find your mother, Talika! I will talk to you later!" Keda instructed, giving them his back, the sword in his hand, still glistening with some of his brother's blood. _

"_It was my entire fault, I… Tan has no…You know it…It happened like this… and Tan didn't…" Talika tried, but Keda's stern gaze dissuaded him to continue one of his hazardous explanations. So, Talika swallowed hard and nodded. He knew he was not spared as far as Keda was concerned. His punishment was just delayed. _

"_I said go find her!" Keda said detaching each word coldly. Talika wasted no more time in discussion. He exchanged worried and apologetic glances with Tanjin and fled to the concubines' quarters where he resided. Tanjin followed Keda out of town, in complete silence. When they reached the wilderness, after a lot of detour, Tanjin thought he could be good to try explaining his acts or at least say something. _

"_I'm sorry!" He began but his sibling didn't look at him. _

"_You're mad at me but it was Rugha who…"_

"_Don't!" Keda warned pacing across the steppes. Behind them the city stood alive shining with million sparks in the darkness._

"_I'm terribly disappointed Tanjin!" He finally said. _

_Tan blinked back his tears. When they arrived in bordures of the citadel, he was found with a shovel in his hand. _

"_I just wanted to be a man! I wanted their respect!" _

"_Did you gain it?" Keda asked and Tanjin bend his head ashamed. He was about to be sick. But somehow even his body understand when they shouldn't push too far. Keda's patience was wearing thin and he stared down at him with his burning yellowish-brown irises._

"_Did you gain their respect? Did you suddenly become a man because you murdered a child? Because like I still see you, you are still my insufferable brat!"_

_Normally this last comment would have been followed by some humour, but Keda hadn't meant it like this, not this time. _

"_I…you must believe that…"_

_He shook his head, staring sternly in Tanjin's eyes. _

"_You're a murderer, Tanjin! Not a man! Never… A man… A real man wouldn't have done what you did. Bury them and take the responsibilities of your act." _

"_I did nothing wrong! Why are you mad at me? I follow your example! Is that why am being punished for!" Tanjin spat suddenly rebellious. "I wonder what you would have wanted me to do. If I am a murderer, then so are you!" _

_His face jerked away from the strength of Keda's palm connecting with his cheek. Another slap knocked him down and he felt something fleshy and cold under his head. When he realized that he had just fall on the corpses of the mother and the girl, he let out a chilling shriek. They were lying just beside him on the floor as if emerging suddenly from nowhere. He let the tears fell freely now as he just realized the horror of the situation. _

"_I thought you were older enough to distinguish the right or the wrong in life. I thought I managed to teach you that…"_

"_I' m sorry. I didn't mean it."_

"_No, the scariest of all is that you did mean it, Tan! It doesn't matter if you're a girl or a boy. You will always be a predator with no conscious at all. You're no better than Rugha!" _

_Tangwen's lips trembled and she began to cry. Keda almost pitied her. But she should learn just like everything else. Some lessons were best learned the hardest way._

"_You will dig deep so that no vultures will find them! You have until the sunrise!" _

"_I'm sorry! Don't make me, please!" She whined knowing she wasn't strong enough to achieve that task. "I will do everything you ask of me! I will redeem myself! I am sorry!"_

_The little girl pleaded, afraid she would be left alone in the dark all because of Tanjin's bad temper. _

"_It's not for my forgiveness you should ask! It's for theirs! Don't you see Tan? You took their lives! You killed the girl and help killing her mother by doing so! They are dead because of you! She was an innocent! You killed a girl just like you! She was so young and you killed her with no other excuse than to make yourself appear worthy. Is that what you call value? Is that what I teach you? You have until sunrise to reflect upon your act." _

Yes, Tanjin smiled bitterly. He was a murderer. No amount of reflection could change that. He was evil and doomed… On top of everything he was alone. He wasn't going to change anytime soon! Keda should have known better! However when the sky suddenly broke loose… As the heavens cried their discontents and the angels cried themselves to sleep on the grey clouds… As Tanjin could hear his mother's cries travelled through the land… As her tears showered his head and washed the blood away… As he could decipher Keda's laments through the suddenly strong wind….

The warrior began to cry….

Like a scared little girl.

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****A.N**: So your verdict is… Hit the button below and review! 


	10. Fresh Water

My last update was literally last year. I have tons of different excuses among which there's one that I called "Life", and the other "computer failure". There is also the fact that lil' Miggy have tons of stories out there that she ought to finish if she doesn't want to be lynched by her dear readers… French readers especially aren't always easy and forgiving! Lol just kidding ! Writing ten pages in English doesn't always go natural for me and I'm so perfectionist that I'm never quite satisfied with myself... Ok this is all my excuses! What I can promise for the future is that I'm not letting go of my plot and will work to achieve what I had in mind. Also, I will try to update at least monthly but I can't promise much more. Be assured though that I love the attention some of you express for this story and I will never forget it. So review, review, review ! PLEASE ! It keeps me on tracks knowing I have people out there waiting for the sequel. And I'm not Tanjin, I promise I will not beat you into submission if you don't like it and tell me so politely ! Yes, cross my heart I promise!

Warning, this chapter may contain barely approached sexual themes. I don't think it could cause me trouble but if some of you asked me I will raise the rating.

Chapter 10

Fresh Water

Tanjin scowled at the skylight. It had stopped raining hours ago but he could still smell the rain in the air and still taste the salt of his tears on his lips. The battle was over. That much he knew… He remembered the utter quietness when the slaughter stopped, the scent of all the lives spoiled on that day, on the green of Britain. Red… The ground was printed with this deep rich crimson colour that could have made his own blood boil in answer and his mouth water in anticipation if only he was paying attention to it. He remembered experiencing an indistinct sense of loss when the battle died around him, when there was nothing left to do than collect the dead and burn the corpses. Not that he actually remembered playing a big part in this. Everything he did this afternoon was a blur of motions and sensations… Everything he did… till now… Tanjin kneeled, his fingers grazed the ground. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes, searching deep inside for some forgotten sensation that would subdue the pain somehow. His lips muttered a prayer. Something vague… Something he learned long ago… He didn't even remember the name of the god he addressed… It was just nonsense. Anyway, the way he was seeing it, all of this means nothing! His life had stopped making sense when he left his home. He picked up a twig, studied it and threw it backwards with a sigh. When the same twig hit him squarely on his back, he let out a groan of annoyance.

Galahad glared in return. He didn't choose to be paired up with that tremendous idiot to begin with! He didn't even choose to be here in the first place. His life had that absolute and perfect taste of normalcy before the Romans arrived to his village to destroy his reality. He was forced into slavery…. Forced to leave everything behind… Forced to turn into some kind of monster! And somehow… Somehow Galahad resented Tanjin too for his misfortune. Someone had to be responsible and the Romans were simply not enough in this bollocksed world to justify all this ugliness! The other boy represented all Galahad decided he abhorred. His strange features and dark complexion… His gaze devilishly green, sharp like that of a wolf…his smirking lips… His viciousness on the battlefield… His scornful attitude… In Galahad's black and white world, Tanjin was the prince of Darkness, a prince that sole belief could be summed up shortly. The only purpose on earth for the poor mortals, like Galahad himself was to serve him. Galahad surveyed the forest around. Tanjin was two steps ahead, looking in the distance, probably plotting something evil. One thing was for sure, he wasn't helping. Galahad felt once again abused. He was doing all the heavy work while your majesty was having a good time doing nothing useful. Oh Galahad hated Tanjin! He hated his contempt for life, his lack of remorse, his indifference to all that blood that painted his evil features, to all that grime on his hands. He hated Tanjin's filthiness… He smells like a legion of decaying corpses... That is to say ten times worse than Braden. He hated that Tanjin didn't care. He hated that the others always let the prince get away with it...And there was worse… The worse was that he felt attracted towards the dark. He was just sensing the change within himself. He tried for the love of his mother to fight it back. He tried and kept trying to fight it back… He was overwhelmed with a sense of injustice, of anger and hate. The boy didn't care who he was fighting for but Galahad did… Arthur was a good man enough …but still he stays Roman. Galahad had friends… more than friends even. But Galahad didn't want to grow accustomed to this life! He was scared that one day he will wake up not caring like Tanjin. Wake up, kill people and sleep on it without remorse. All Galahad had to do was to look at Tanjin and see what he could become if he stopped rebelling against the whole situation. It was all he had to do to keep his own soul in check. When he will be free, he will forget all about it. He would go back to Sarmatia, be happy and Tanjin and all this mess will be no more than bad memories.

Suddenly, Galahad felt watched. Something grazed his shoulder and he let go of his tasks. Struggling to unsheathe his sword, he lost his balance, flung himself on a trunk, fumbled to regain his breath and finally faced his sneaking opponent empty-handed. (I will add for his benefit that he did all of this quite bravely.)

Gawain raised his hands in the air, trying not to laugh. "Just me! Arthur was worried that you and Tan have gotten yourself into trouble!"

"Don't call him Tan! It's like you like him! It's like he is a friend, which he is not! "

Gawain wasn't paying attention. He appreciated Galahad's impressive pile of woods on the ground before he nodded with satisfaction.

"You worked well. Come and join us. Bors was about to sing when I left. Just because he is courting Vanora, he believes he is as good a singer as her! Come, Oran prepared us a feast… Galahad? Where is Tanjin, huh?"

Galahad raised his eyes to the sky in answer.

"As if I care really!" He shouted back exasperated. He shrugged, picked up the branches and walked toward the camp.

It was all about Tanjin! It was always all about him!

Back there, they found out with some surprise that the Prince Hun was already there, they also noticed, this time with no surprise at all that he was resting lazily against an old oak tree.

Under the firelight, Melan was trying to clean the gash on Blaez's head with water. Besides him, Dagonet was impregnating some clothes with a vegetal salve.

"How is he?" Arthur asked.

"Stop talking about me as if I was not there!" Blaez's spat suddenly. He rose on his elbows, trying to push Dagonet off him without success. "For your information, Commander, I will live!"

Dagonet's jaw muscles were stiff for once, on the verge of losing patience. Arthur grinned and continued on a teasing tone.

"What do you think, Dag?"

Dag pressed his enormous palm against Blaez's head, pushing out the infection.

" Arrrgh, you… You…" The blonde grunted. "There's no place for thinking in that thick head of his! If there was, he would never….arrrgh! Will you stop this?"

Dagonet closed his eyes in exasperation. Melan understanding the urgency of the situation went to fetch Blaez's cousin.

"He is his usual self... His usual annoying self!" was the giant boy's sole commentary.

Arthur suppressed a snort and clapped Dagonet on his back gently for support. Then he left them and sat down nonchalantly beside Lancelot. His friend seemed engrossed in some dark thoughts. He followed his gaze, finding himself studying the Hun prince. Time seemed to stretch around them. They didn't move or say anything. A lump formed into the back of his throat, and he swallowed hard for some unknown reason. There was something uneasy in the way, the boy sat, his shoulder hunched. Still, Arthur couldn't bring himself to talk. He couldn't voice a feeling he had trouble identifying.

Tanjin's small frame was folded into an uncomfortable position. His eyes were closed, but nobody was fooled into believing he was asleep.

"Doesn't look like he's fine!"said Gawain.

Galahad shrugged in answer and grabbed Gawain's flask for the umpteenth time. He emptied it in one gulp. Gawain whistled in amazement and studied the younger boy with care. He was drinking too much. It wasn't good for him to nurse a habit so soon, Gawain thought. He should probably tell him this.

"You know Galahad…" He began carefully before he got momentarily distracted by Aggravain's snores which echoed louder at their feet. He pushed his brother's shoulder with one foot and he rolled on his side, snores waning slowly. He grinned pleased with himself then looked at Tanjin again. Gawain wanted to make everybody happy all the time. He wanted to be able to find solutions to all problems. He thought that they were all more than just knights; they were all brothers even if some were more conniving than others. They all had the same purpose, even Tanjin regardless of Galahad's opinion on the matter. They should behave as brothers always looking out for each other.

"Really, He doesn't look alright."

"That's because everything about him is wrong!" Galahad replied harshly.

"We should probably…" Gawain began but he managed to forget what he was about to say when Tristan's bird soared in the dark sky. He leaned slightly to touch Galahad's curly hair. There was still some mud caked in the dark curls, and a slight cut adorned his cheeks. He looked like he had aged considerably within a few hours.

"Why should we care what happened to him? Where's Aggravain's ale?" Galahad mumbled between his teeth.

"What happened to you, Galahad?" Asked Gawain in return.

Galahad looked away not finding an answer to this particular question and not wanting to search for one either. He lied down on his back. He locked one arm behind his head and shrugged again, staring blankly ahead. He missed Sarmatia. He missed his family. He missed what the Romans took from him. A voice in his head kept telling him that he was alright, that he did well this afternoon. He fought well! He should be proud! The voice in his heart was telling him the exact contrary. How Aggravain managed to sleep after a day like this was beyond him! He could never close his eyes again without seeing the faces of those he killed. Oddly, he was partially content that he would indeed see them. It would be a good remainder, that he _did_ have a soul. He could bear all this guilt until the day he would get his discharge. Then he would put all this behind him and go back to be the son his parents raised him to be.

Tanjin blinked back tears even knowing that he didn't have a right to do so. He couldn't help thinking that the scrawny brat was right. Why should they care about him? He was nothing to them! They shouldn't care for him. Something was most certainly wrong with him. He wiped his face with his left hand. He finally opened his eyes to find a clean cloth hanging straight in front of him. It smells like an odd mixture of berries, ale, and horse scent. He lifted his head. Duncan stood there clean cloth in one hand, one of Tristan's precious apple in the other one. The brown-haired tilted his head with a charming smile, and strangely Tanjin felt himself respond to that smile. Duncan offered him the apple as a peace contribution and sat next to him. Tanjin shook his head even though his stomach growled in rebellion. He wasn't among the knights for long but something he knew for sure, one should never steal from Tristan.

"You should eat more and stop drinking, little prince! You looked splattered." Duncan said tauntingly.

Tanjin shook his head vigorously, denying Duncan's insinuation.

"You can hide yourself all you want but I know how to recognize the signs!" He replied shaking his head as if disappointed.

"I didn't!" Tanjin retorted, frustrated that Duncan's judgment weighed so much on him. It was true. He wasn't drunk. Why did they keep studying each of his moves?

"Don't question me; it's none of your business! You'd better give me that apple and just shut up! I don't need your advice! " He said haughtily. He considered the apple with interest before he attacked the luscious fruit ravenously. Juice dribbled on his chin and Duncan was momentarily mesmerized by the tiny drop perched on his lower lips. Tanjin grunted not at all surreptitiously and it shook Duncan out of his contemplation. He looked at the fire and huffed in answer.

Tanjin thought that Duncan was strange. He was making him feel like a child but at the same time... He didn't really know. It was just plain weird. The older boy was looking at him peculiarly. It made him feel ill at ease. He preferred Galahad's reproachful glares. Galahad was good. He felt remorse over killing to defend himself. Tanjin knew he should feel something! Anything at all! Something that would prove that he wasn't empty! Galahad was sad and… his sorrow rolled out through every pore of his skin, like millions of droplets of salty water on a fresh wound. It poured into Tanjin's chest… It poured into his missing soul with the strength of a wave. He missed his home. He missed his family. He missed being alive. His hatred couldn't abandon Tanjin in his most hour of need! It was a constant in his life. Something Tanjin could rely upon. Yes, Galahad's attitude was something he got used to easily. Something he anticipated even. A life constant and Prince Tanjin liked constant.

They sat there quietly, absorbed with watching the fire dance in the gentle wind. Yellowish sparks were rising towards the vast sky, like bouncy fireflies. Tanjin wanted to be one of those beautiful sparks which seemed so much more alive than him.

"May I advise your lordship…" began Duncan with a snort. The last of his sentence was drowned under a rumour.

"_May I advise my lord to consider paying attention to my course next time?" _

Tanjin spun around unexpectedly, the motion so sudden; it blurred his vision for a second.

"What did you say?" he asked eyes wide with surprise.

"Nothing of importance. It's not like you ever listen to me, young one?"

Tanjin's eyes shot opened in recognition. He had heard that before. Where? He took in Duncan's smoothly masculine features and terribly handsome traits, the honest blue eyes, and the short coffee brown hair. Suddenly, he didn't saw Duncan anymore. Blue orbs turned a dark grey and the rider's thin lips took a full shape. Time seemed to stop around him as he recognized the girl in front of him giggling coquettishly as she put down a plate of fruits at his feet. A name swam its way in front of his mind. He wanted to grasp that knowledge and at the same time he wanted to grasp her so she wouldn't go away. She bowed in front of him, at last, and stood almost immediately. One hand gripped his tight and the other clutched the yellow fabric of her dress so she could lead the way with grace and dignity. When they crossed the long corridor, she let him walk by himself. He wanted to grip that hand so she could never ever walk away from him.

"_Kudjila?" _he heard himself called her.

_She turned toward him with a smirk full of confidence spread on her swollen red lips. She didn't take his offered hand however. No, instead she pushed behind her ear a black curl from her velvety mane, and lowered her beautiful grey eyes on him. She looked directly into his eyes, directly into his soul. _

"_Don't you act like a baby, prince Tan! You know you can't escape your duty! Not this time anyway! And I won't turn the place upside down ever again so I can find you doing another mischief behind our father's back. Even Talika knows better than to willingly miss his classes. You should take his example for once. One can never be a good lord if he is not educated. Next time, you're late I will alert your mother…"_

_She saw him frowned and crossed his arms stubbornly around him. She was just a woman besides she was just his sister, what could she possibly do to him? Kudjila smirked again though._

"_Or I will tell Keda. I'm sure he will be delighted with your effort to be a dumb roman."_

_His face crumbled at the mention of Keda's name and he looked at her as if she was fuelled with new powers, which she was. And the fact was that Kudjila knew it. _

"_Somehow I have an insight that our brother wouldn't be so pleased with you." _

_She opened the door before him and motioned for him to go inside. He did as he was told knowing that with Kudjila it was pointless to argue, especially if she was threatening him. Damn woman! _

Damn woman! He missed her! He knew what would happen though. She would walk away and abandon him like he deserved. He hadn't been nice to any of them. He was not even capable of being a good brother. At the time he didn't want to. He thought he didn't have to. Now, he would exchange anything to be with them, again.

_She closed the wooden door behind him and he didn't move until he heard the fumbling of clothes and the sound of the princess walking away. _

He mentally counted each step as if each one was taking him closer to their great separation.

"Tanjin?" called out Duncan.

" _Tanjin, it is really generous of you to grace us with your charismatic presence. Find a seat, child." _

_Onegesius said as he turned toward the other young princes. _

"_If your lordships would be as kind as to listen to my dullest rambling, I will try to teach them some geography notions. Here, see for your greatest benefit what your father had accomplished this last decade." Their pompous teacher began as a slave kneeled on the floor to spread the gigantic map of the hun empire. " Prince Tanjin, I want you to show me Rome and I want you to name a few of our latest achievements in the west." _

"Tanjin?"

"So your highness is too drunk to remember his name, and what? Can't we have a peaceful dinner for once?" Blaez asked looking very exasperated.

"Look at those eyes, if those are not the eyes of madness, than pray tell me what shall they be?" called Callan fearfully.

"He is warm." noticed Dagonet.

"Covered in dirt as he is, it's no wonder he hasn't managed to catch himself something." Andrea remarked.

"You think it's bad." Melan asked, his voice trembling from emotion. He couldn't help envisaging the worse.

"Let's be hopeful that it is!" Cheered Blaez with "false" merriness. Actually nobody could be sure if his merriness could be called false.

"We should probably wash him. He is most likely carrying some fateful disease."

Tanjin heard them from a distance but like he had discovered recently he couldn't stop the memories that assaulted him. His eyes momentarily discerned under the firelight Dagonet's newly shaven head. Then, all he saw was Onegesius' tattooed bald head.

_As a hun commander, Onegesius' face was marked by years of sunbathing during the huns' hardest campaigns. As the prince's diplomacy teacher, he wore linen and gold. His refined clothes, a white tunic embroidered with gold thread, were a contrast to his brutish appearance. He spoke deliberately yet slowly with a sophisticated accent, and gave the appearance of wisdom and good manners. _

"_Prince Tanjin? Can we be hopeful,that my lord will be successful in enlightening us somehow… someday? "Onegesius asked sarcastically._

_Tanjin blinked twice, a distraught expression falling on his face. His feet moved helplessly and stepped on the large map spread across the floor. He heard his brothers burst out laughing. They were all fully aware of Tanjin's flagrant disinterest for his studies. After he paced on Sarmatia and Dacia for about five minutes, after he visited Moesia and Thracia for several and stood upon Gaul longer than he should, after two wrong attempts, he succeeded in pointing the capital of the roman's empire and his mother's home and was thinking hard at the second part of the question. After several minutes though, their teacher felt compelled to ask. _

"_So, my lord, your answer?"_

_Tanjin shrugged indifferently. Like he needed such knowledge to be a commander! _

_Onegesius scratched helplessly his shiny bald head. It was an injustice really having that boy for student! He was so dumb that a goat appeared gifted in comparison! In thirty-seven years of service among the royal family, he never had so much work as with this bunch, especially the half-roman illiterate rugrat. _

"May I advise my lord, to consider paying attention to my teachings next time?"

"_Come now Onegesius, you know he is too young!" Batur stated, saving Tanjin from answering the old man. _

"_Or too dumb?" Bleda suggested. _

Tanjin was trying hard to control his bad temper. He wanted to stay with them. Perhaps if he wished it strong enough he could stay with them, and never go back to the world where they're not there anymore.

"_I think hopeless is the adjective that describes him the most" Hubris added with a mischievous wink. _

"_Irremediably ignorant…" approved Sogdian._

"_No, I got better" Talika shouted, his imagination always the most fertile. "We could easily proposed Tanjin as a hun word for the universal concept of stupidity! "_

"_I don't need to know these things!" Tanjin yelled with frustration. His well-known bad temper elicited as usual some snorts in the royal ranks. _

"_Really prince Tanjin, pray tell, enlighten us as why?" Onegesius asked, his red-streaked eyes showing his extreme weariness. _

" _I will have scouts or soldiers, or people to know theses thing for me!" The eight-years old stated condescendingly. _

_Onegesius rolled his eyes; he didn't have the patience to question the young prince's logic. All he wanted to do was spank his girlish insolent bottom until it bled._

"_That's sure a good way to be remembered when you will be king, Tan." Hubris pointed out dryly._

" _Don't tell him, Hubris! You know what , dear brothers?" Sogdian began, all eyes directed at him. "Talika is absolutely right ! » _

_Talika shrugged, smiling smugly. _

"_As always. That is not news, brother."_

_Sogdian elbowed him in the ribs and continued calmly on his trail of thoughts. "Our little brother will become a legend in the country… should I say in the entire world: King Tanjin, the hopeless dunce sired by Attila the great! I'm just glad I will be dead before I see that day!"_

"_For my part," added Hubris. "I'm just glad we all shall be dead before it happens. I'm also glad that the hopeless dunce is the youngest."_

_Tanjin stared at them hard. And before Hubris had finished his tirade, Tanjin had lunged at his throat and was kicking and punching in all directions. Due to his small frame, his other brothers had a hard time catching him. And when they did, he constantly slipped through their buttery hands. He particularly set himself against Sogdian, who received most of his strikes._

"_You stupid….you … worse than … horse shit… mangy dog…!" Tanjin roared. _

_Onegesius was about to step into the conflict to separate them but an arm held him back. _

"_Is it a way to treat a brother? _

_Tanjin's heart missed a beat. He thought hard at something to say, something witty but not impertinent, something Talika could have find within the matter of seconds. Something nice to make up for the fact that his father has just caught him cursing and beating his old brother into the cemented ground. For a long time, nothing came. And suddenly , his mouth opened and heard himself say gruffly. "I didn't mean it! I'm Sorry! "Attila couldn't help but smile at Tanjin's favourite choice of words. He knew his children so well, everyone of them. A heavy silence ensued as he travelled the large room to find a seat next to his old friend. _

"_I see the boys are giving you much trouble my friend."_

"_Oh no, really, we didn't!" Talika interrupted boldly before their teacher had time to open his mouth. " Tanjin and Hubris did. They're troublesome. They can't seem to want to grow up, my King." _

_Attila snorted. His pack of wolves was so very predictable. Tanjin glared at Talika. Hubris glared at Talika. In return, the brunette smiled wickedly for both. _

"_Still from my point of view, it appears as though you lot thought it could do good to harass your little brother and embarrass your teacher at the same occasion." They all blushed under Attila's piercing gaze. _

"_Now, son, did you really mean that apology?" Attila said, all his attention now turned toward his youngest brat. _

_Tanjin fidgeted nervously on his two slender legs. _

He was thinking hard of what he could have said on that day. He thought of something nice, something amiable. Instead what he said was exactly what he remembered saying on that day.

"_No and… Yes" _

"_Two answers for one question. Very common of you, Tanjin." _

"_I mean, father," He said slowly, his green eyes flaring with unrestrained anger, "that I really think Sogdian is the ugliest creature in this world and probably he will be in the next too." _

_Attila's dark eyes widened with surprise, it was like he was seeing Tanjin for the first time. He leaned on his chair, making Tanjin feel uneasy where he stood. _

"_Since Sogdian is my dearest son, does that mean that your lordships find his Khan also ugly?"_

_Tanjin gulped down his fear. He was safe to say he had crossed a major line and he was going to receive a sever punishment for this. But hell, Sogdian had it coming! He was only defending himself!_

"_I didn't say I knew where he drew his looks from, from you, father or a fanged dog. Do I really know? However I could eventually consider to give an apology. "_

_Attila was more and more stunned by the minute. His eyebrows shot high as he listened intently of what his youngest have to say. _

"_I could mean this apology if it pleased my king and spare me a too painful punishment."_

"_So you can go against your own conviction because of your cowardice?" Attila asked again, his fingers playing with his beard._

"_It is no cowardice to choose when to back down". Keda said, "There is no better way to win a war!" _

_Even Onegesius acknowledged the truth of his words. But Attila insisted, he wanted to know how far the youngest could go. How strong in will he really was!_

"_So you admit you were wrong…" _

_Tanjin nodded vigorously and marched slowly toward Attila, toward his doom. _

"_I shouldn't have been caught in the first place." _

"_Are you sure it is what a man should do?"_

_Tanjin paused in his tracks. Because what a man does and doesn't do in similar occasions was beyond the realm of his comprehension. _

"_I don't know." He replied honestly, his voice was barely above a whisper. "That's what I do."_

_Attila shifted position in his chair and extended one arm in invitation. Tanjin walked slowly, mustering what he could of dignity, but at last, he could not help the surge of blood that pumped in his veins and ran into his father's arms. Attila lifted him on his knees with no effort. _

"_I will not punish you because of your honesty but remember that you owe Sogdian, our famous mangy dog." before he began to laugh boisterously._

"Tristan let me see. You're so tall that I can't see anything." Demanded Danis even if it was not by accident, he found himself behind Tristan's back. He figured if Tanjin wanted to harm them, it should be the safest place to be.

Unfortunately the location has its disadvantages too.

"I will help you undress him and then we will clean some of this mess." Bors suggested, always eager to put some of his muscles to use.

"He said he didn't want to be bathed." Braden reminded them. In Braden's opinion, no one should be forced to. If it wasn't for the sake of his young wife he wouldn't have took one before departing the fort.

"We should probably leave him…. Never cross the will of a deity and we still don't know exactly where he comes from."

"You are so incredibly naïve, Danis, sometimes I feel like I could hammer your head into the great Wall." Blaez said, contemplating the fire until inspiration found him. "We should burn his clothes, to prevent any foreign infection which the blight might have brought with him ...and… "

Lancelot intervened before Blaez had time to suggest the sacrifice of the brat just in the name of caution.

"Stop these, no one will be bathed against his will, especially in the middle of the night and no clothes will be burned, Blaez ! Absolutely no sacrifices for the greatest good of others will be made!"

"Lancelot is right! He is just exhausted." Their commander approved. "No one touch him! The Hun is strong and he will be fine by himself! "

"Arthur, I'm sure you know how to recognize a good suggestion when you heard one!"

Arthur and Lancelot whirled toward him at the same time and with the same voice they shouted back.

"No Blaez!"

When Tanjin's body went limp and crawled on the bare floor, Lancelot was tempted to revise his hasty judgement. But when the hun let out a loud snore, he smirked smugly and walked away.

"See! Exactly like I told you!"

Duncan covered Tanjin with a blanket and left him to rest. The boy had such a strange behaviour useless to wonder too much! However Tristan's eyes never left Tan's body, watching attentively as his chest rose and fell repeatedly. He stayed like that until his Hawk came back from hunting and perched itself on the branches of the tree above Tanjin, dislodging a raven which soared in the air. Then he too went to sleep.

It had been raining for a week now and the knights had just regained the fort the day before, when a certain Hun decided to catch the bull by his horn. Tanjin paced for the hundredth time in front of the baths door. He must have seen an endless list of people going on inside and leaving clean. It was a rainy day and it was like all the garrison had decided to meet there. He heard some heavy footsteps on the tiles and hided behind the wall of the next building. Lancelot and Arthur pushed the doors open, laughing at some unknown joke as they came out. He noticed that the roman rarely looked this carefree and that if he wanted to kill him, now would be a good time. He hid the best he could and fortunately they were so absorbed in their conversation that they didn't see him. He heaved a sigh of relief at their retreating form, but gasped out loud when an obnoxious finger poked his back. Melan was there sporting his friendliest smile. However heartfelt that smile was it faded almost immediately, when Tanjin, obviously disturbed by the intrusion, trapped the boy against the wall sporting in return, his scariest grin. Melan nervously massaged his sore neck and tentatively tried to smile again. But Tanjin didn't respond at all. Instead he almost barked.

"What do you want? What are you doing here? Are you following me? Tell me who send you. Is it the Roman? »

Melan opened his mouth to say something but he was so struck with fear that nothing came out. What could he tell Tanjin! He was just passing by and thought he should say hi!

"I…"he stuttered.

"Nevermind tell your master you didn't see me or else I will cut your tongue in half so you look like a grass snake in the morning"

Melan's brown eyes went wide once again and he wrapped his arms protectively around his heavy bag. Unfortunately it caught immediately Tanjin's attention. And he looked at Melan with a new found interest and Melan swallowed hard. It was hard to tell what went through Tanjin's head and it was even scarier to wonder. He took a step back defensively and Tanjin tackled him against the wall again and grabbed the bag, opening it and brashly rummaging through the healer's things. If Tanjin had asked Melan he would have been glad to show him himself his new treasures, but now Melan felt obligated to protest at this blatant invasion of his privacy.

"Hey… I don't allow you…" Melan began with uncertainty but when those green eyes settled on him fiercely once again he barely mumbled. "It's just some medicine, nothing important."

"Medicine…"

"I just got back early from my morning promenade. The fluttering weather chased me to the fort."

"You have actually the right to be away from the fort?"He said more than he asked. "Why did no one think to tell me this before?"

Melan shrugged not knowing how to respond.

"We are pretty free to go where we please; the only condition is not going too far and always warned someone of your whereabouts!"

The last of Melan's advice were lost to Tanjin who was too busy examining the bag and hiding some interesting plant in his breeches. Without another word, he tossed back the bag to Melan and went back to his observation post. Melan sighed a breath of relief and prepared to leave him to his weird hobbies.

"I'm sorry!"

Melan went speechless again.

"I'm sorry. I didn't really mean it!"

Melan pressed into the wall and slid down.

"You are sorry about what, Tanjin."

"I made a promise to you. Protect you on the battlefield. Never let you down. I didn't keep it. It's wrong in many ways."

"Oh!" exclaimed Melan, bending his head down. He knew what it should have cost Tanjin to admit that much. And he didn't even expect that much! He was about to tell him to not bother when the doors of the bath burst opened and Galahad and his adopted brothers came out noisily. Galahad dashed in front of them and Agravain and Gawain raced after him, laughter peeling in the air. Melan followed Tanjin's gaze and tried his best this time to hide behind his back. When they were far away, Tanjin shifted position, facing the brown haired, his breathing laboured. Melan caught a glimpse of his distress.

"I wasn't angry with you!"

Tanjin sighed and looked downwards staring at his feet.

" I could help with your problem, Tan."

"What problem? I don't have any problem!"

" I could find one of the huge basins the women used for the laundry. It will be just the right size. Filling it will take us time but I'm sure with four arms it will not be that long."

Melan looked thoughtful already making plans. He smiled when he saw a pair of green orbs shine from anticipation.

"It will not be difficult at all, and you will be less annoyed because honestly waiting here all day will not get you anywhere…. Especially anywhere near clean."

"You will do that for me? Why ? I did nothing but hurt you!"

Tanjin couldn't help being suspicious about Melan's true motives.

"You're my friend. That's what friends do."

"I don't know. I never had friends." Tanjin muttered, looking in the distance.

"Don't worry; the first rule with friends is that the past does not matter." He shook Tanjin's shoulder with energy. "Come, Tan, we have work to do to transform you room in a royal bathhouse before Duncan gets back from the horse market with Jols."

"That's it, everything is settled for your comfort, my lord." Melan announced smiling widely, pride gleaming in his eyes. He had made a miracle to transform this dusty room into something resembling a comfortable bath for the shy hun prince only.

"I could even play the slave that scrubs your back and you will feel at home." Melan added playfully.

Tanjin's teary eyes were transfixed on the fuming water and he didn't answer right away.

"I… thank you Melan but…"

"Well, I will let you… Don't forget to scrub those ears. They're a nest for bugs really. And your hair… don't forget your hair! Snakes are probably hiding in there!"

"Thank you Melan!" Tanjin said more firmly, dismissing Melan once and for all.

"I'm going to guard the door! Take your time!" Melan gathered his things and left. Tanjin stayed where he was facing the washbasin. He couldn't move and breathed in short gulps, gathering his strength.

In hun's folklore, there was the legend of a white wolf turning into a girl when it bathed in a lake. When he was younger, he used to love that story. He felt close to that story.

When you were born a prince especially when you were born Attila's son, it was just with the knowledge that there wasn't any thing that you couldn't do. Tanjin, Talika, and the others were born with such ideas. The sole difference between Tanjin and his brothers was that the former knew since his earlier days that this rule didn't inevitably apply to him. He knew that eventually there will come a day when he will not be able to keep up with the competition. He truly wasn't like them. He was not a man. He never would be.

Tanjin took the golden ring of his mother. He pushed out the head, revealing the shell containing the blue powder. He had abused the thing of late and the shell was almost empty. He dabbed his finger in it before licking it clean. The bitter-sweet taste intoxicated his senses and he inhaled sharply. He began to unfasten his leather clothes slowly, each lace crusted with blood and grim. He began to feel the warmth of the poison spreading in his belly. He snorted, fighting to take off his boots. He looked with hazy eyes at his filthy toes and laughed hysterically as they wriggled free on the cold cemented floor.

Apart from being alone Tanjin feared that one day, nature would defeat him. And everybody would be left to see how weak he was in reality. How weak and insignificant Tangwen was!

The last of his clothes hit the ground and Tanjin stood in all his glory. His hands roamed on his body as if discovering parts of it he didn't even know existed. His hands paused on his breasts, small round things that felt alien to him. He rubbed absentmindedly and his nipples grew hard in answer. Tangwen let out a moan and Tanjin thought that the whole idea of experiencing pleasure through such procedure was disgusting. It was time to get it on with. So in one motion, he climbed in the basin, gritting his teeth as he felt the water ran on his body languidly, washing away who he really was. Tangwen relaxed at last and let her head fall back on the edge. Her eyes rolled over and she tilted her head letting out another artificial laugh. Melan was right. It was just the perfect size.

Little girls were just good enough to make sweet wives and dedicated mothers. Tangwen was no exception. No woman does in men's eyes. It never matters that his own mother was a roman princess which strategy skills help Attila win numerous battles. It didn't matter what her sisters wanted, they would be married at fourteen and be obedient wives and considerate mothers at sixteen. Tangwen didn't want to be like this. And Tanjin wouldn't let her… In fact, Tanjin's whole life purpose was to make sure this never happened to her.

She dived into the water, wetting her hair. She was ready to welcome another painful memory. The blue powder of Olivia didn't disappoint her. Her fist clutched suddenly the edge as a spasm coursed through her body. Her irises dilated, and turned a deep green. Her head tilted back suddenly, hitting hard against the wood. Another spasm coursed through her entire body and it shook in the water. She could hear sounds of footsteps in the background and like always it triggered another memory.

_Tanjin scuttled through the vast garden of the Royal palace. He bumped into Lysiane without apologising and escaped from Kudjila's grasping hands. The two girls laughed and tossed crumbs of their lunch in his hair as he rushed down the stairs. He pushed the wooden gates, crossed the yard in a few strides and dashed into the exterior corridor, then inside the palace. He pushed open his heavy doors. And as soon as he arrived in the comfort of his bedroom, he heaved a sigh and crept under his bed. He lay there still. Sweat pouring off his muddy face. He knew he shouldn't have listened to Talika. Like organising a race in the pig barn had ever stood for a good idea! Alright it had sounded like one when Talika suggested it! But he should have known better by now! Everything Talika says always sounds like a good idea at first. But in the long run, it always turns out bad, mostly for him._

She laughed at the memory even if Tanjin didn't quite find it funny, but Tangwen did and that was all that mattered.

_A feminine voice called out his name in the distance and he crawled back further under the bed. At this moment, he wanted to be invisible. The double doors creaked open and she appeared on the threshold radiant and beautiful. _

_The sun played in the wavy dark hair, giving it strange highlights. She wore it partially free, partially held high in a roman bun with curls framing her face. The dress she wore was made in a simple design, but the deep green linen was embroidered with gold thread at the cleavage. A brown and white fur coat covered her shoulders and swept to the floor as she entered the room. One slave followed closely and the two women exchanged a few words on a confidential tone. The slave bowed and hurried out the door, leaving it open. Tanjin cursed inwardly at her clumsiness when a white and grey streaked ball of fur rushed in the room going straight toward his refuge. _

Tangwen smiled. Oh she missed Boudika! He always put his nose where it didn't belong.

"_Where are you Tan?" Sing-sang Olivia as her fingers caressed the wooden furniture. He saw her feet marching in his direction and fought Boudika who was chewing impatiently on his toes. He kicked the tiger's muzzled but the beast growled in answer. His left claws scratched lightly at his left toes and Tanjin yelped in pain. Quietly Olivia sat down on the bed and Tanjin appeared between her feet, a smirk on his very dirty face. _

_Olivia smiled to him playfully and leaned over. _

"_You didn't see my child, did you? Five winters almost, smaller than a dwarf, smells like a pony after a campaign, bathed in mud to his leisure, hair in a mess, pouty lips made to whine, tendency to lie, gross manners not at all very "gentlemanlike" . "She announced, a heavy Latin accent emphasizing the vowels and diphthongs. Tanjin smiled in defeat and giggled as she lifted him up. She looked at him from head to toes. _

"_There's no clean place on that face to kiss you, silly boy! What were you thinking? "_

_He rolled his eyes to the sky. _

"_I don't want any kiss. You kiss me in the morning and I could live one more day without." He said not weighing the cruelty of his words. She seemed thoughtful a minute and then whispered in his ears_

"_But well, your mother can't, my darling. You remember the common greed trait of romans!" _

_Then she smacked soundly one of his fluttering eyelids, the only part of his body which looked cleaned enough. _

"_I don't need a bath, really, mother. I had one yesterday. I know you're concerned about my health but there is actually no need to bother yourself."_

"_I will not let you roam this place in filthy miserable clothes! It's important that you always appear at your best!"_

"_I know, but I can assure you also that other men don't bath all day!" He stated knowingly. _

_Her eyes widened as she nodded, looking like she was just drinking in every word devotedly._

"_I believe you with no difficulty, my lord! I have lived in their stinking presence long enough, always wondering why. However I do recall that the last bath of your highness was three days ago! Wicked boy! " _

_She said as she hugged him tight not caring if he messed her dress. She carried him across the room; letting Tanjin bury his nose in the crook of her neck. He inhaled sharply her sweet scent. She smelled like all the flowers in their garden. _

_Boudika growled as he followed them slowly to his mistress's quarters. They went by her huge bedroom chamber and down some stairs to enter her private roman bath. She put Tanjin down and his eyes lazily scanned the room._

Green eyes scanned lazily the room and she smiled a first true smile of the day when she saw the wild flowers that Melan had disposed in a ceramic vase beside the window. She sighed, trying to get used to the feel of water against her skin, feeling a tremor rising down her spine and surrendering to it with a gasp. She spends weeks in the skin of Tanjin. She didn't even remember who she was anymore. It was downright confusing. She didn't remember being her. That body was strange to her. She had curves in places she didn't remember having and hair… She had way too much hair on her… and not at all well placed… Everything had been concealed under the safety of Tanjin's leather clothes and she hadn't been able to see her body grow under the cuirass. She dived one hand under the water, touching the hairy spot between her legs with curiosity. She tried to remember her mother then… Remember how she was… how she smiled… even how she breathed… But it was so long ago… Tanjin didn't want to be a woman and that she understands. That was why she could let herself fade away on Tanjin's wish because she respected the fact that he wanted to protect them by doing so.

_The steam rose above the surface of the water as the ovens underground warmed gradually. There was another bathhouse in the citadel, located on the west wing but it was much more public and crowded, frequented by the concubines and their children and people of the court. Three years ago, Olivia asked Attila to order the construction of her private bath and it took her only one night of hard-won negotiation to obtain what she wanted. Olivia looked at her child with love. No, she looked at him with complete unwavering adoration, like he was some mystic creature, some higher human being meant to be above all of them. Yes, Olivia Solitia, High queen of the Hun tribe, born a roman princess, always got what she wanted. The only exception was that she didn't get the man she really loves as a husband regardless of all the schemes she planned. She never had him. Well, Olivia was of the race of people who chose willingly to not dwell on the past, on what they couldn't change. She loved being Attila's wife. She loved the power it gave her. Because of that, she had been gifted the honour to birth Tanjin and she knew her son would do such great things. _

_She closed the doors, turned the wooden key in the lock, causing Tanjin to almost swallow his tongue in anxiety._

_His emerald gaze narrowed on the only exit. He tried to plan his big escape. He could pretend to be sick, but then his mother will poison him with one of the foul decoction she only had the secret to. He could make a run for the stables and ride far away for at least two full moons. He could get Talika to follow him. But than what would happen, he hated horses almost as much he hated water. Olivia will drag him kicking and screaming with the help of a battalion of soldiers if she has to! Definitely not worth the trouble! Sometimes he just wanted to be like Bleda and Batur, their mother Kreka never had a care for their state of cleanness! Life was unfair_!

_She took off her coat and pulled up her sleeves high. She undressed him in turn. He shivered slightly as the cold assaulted his skin and his chest contracted in anticipation and he couldn't feel anymore and he couldn't breathe anymore._

Nobody could lie when naked. They were just what they were supposed to be. They were just forced to be real. A real rag doll with no actual meaning in life that was what Tanjin was! She and Tanjin were nothing on the great scale of destiny. They were nothing. Nothing but an abomination!

Melan thought he was doing a good job of guarding the door. It reminded him when back in Sarmatia, he walked with his three sisters to the pond and kept watch as they swam.

He heard a girl scream and leaned over the balcony. In the courtyard the beautiful Amery was being chased under the rain by Gawain and Galahad. Under the porch, Sylena, the blonde was being kissed breathless by her husband. Lancelot was walking through the exterior corridor with a beautiful brunette. Arthur was coming out at the same time from the culina with a piece of warm bread in his hands. He crossed Bors on his path with an armful of his bastards. Vanora was following close behind, with a basket full of clean laundry she had managed to save from the deluge, and a mouthful of few chosen curses she had managed to save in their absence. Dagonet, seeing them come in his direction, made a dash toward the stables in order to flee the oncoming tongue lashing. Everyone seemed busy in their own way and Melan was happy to have his own duty.

Melan heard footsteps in the stairs and willed himself to appear casual and self-confident. The newcomer emerged in the hallway and Melan gasped when he recognized Tristan.

He paced nervously, fumbling with his fingers.

"Hi Tristan! What a bright day!"

Tristan barely spares him a glance in answer and Melan released the breath he was holding when the other knight continued on his way. But Tristan did stop, whistling for his daft bird. The hawk joined him in a flap of wet feather and perched itself onto the balcony. Tristan did something unexpected at least for Melan. Tristan looked up in his direction and he knew at that simple moment when dark brown eyes met his hazel one without blinking that he was busted. He didn't know why he was so scared but Tristan did make him tense. He wanted to run. He wanted to cower pathetically to the ground and asked Tristan for his forgiveness. Forgiveness for what misdeed, he himself couldn't really tell. Tristan abandoned his precious bird and began to walk toward him again. He could not be intimidated. Melan had a mission, a duty. He made a promise to a friend. He would guard that door even if his life depended on it.

He stared at Melan from head to toe before his gaze was past the brown-haired healer and on the door. Melan mustered up all his courage to find the strength to address Tristan in the friendliest tone he could.

"I heard that Percival and you were sent on a mission not far south, some weeks ago. Won't you tell me about it? Was there woads?"

Tristan's eyes never left the knob but he nodded.

"Was there a lot of them? " Melan stuttered, eyeing the doorknob himself . He retreated back in front of it protectively.

"Dunno."

"You didn't count them?" He asked again leaning on the door.

"I was too busy killing them." Tristan said his voice uneven.

And Melan didn't need more to imagine the bloodshed, he shook his head.

"Surely, Tristan, you have an idea? I don't know! One or two? Probably three of them? I'm really interested about the tale of such a great fight."

Tristan allowed his eyes to settle on Melan once more and replied, a little edge in his voice.

"I honestly lost count after the fifth warrior. As for the great tale there is not much to say. They fought me, they died."

The end of his sentence sent a chill through Melan's spine and he gulped down his bravado along with his saliva. Watching his boots, he moved to the side giving Tristan free access to the room. Tristan took a step forward immediately. The faintest smirk was on his face as he slowly and quietly pushed the door open and risked his head inside.

But then even Tristan wasn't prepared for what he saw in the room.

What he saw in Tanjin and Duncan's room was the bare back of a woman. She was bathing. Nude from the waist down… Naked… bare of all her clothes… Tanned gleaming glistening skin… Tanned glistening soft skin… Curly dark mane… Wild and shiny dark curls… One of the most impressive designs tattooed that back and he felt himself stirred in his pants. As if in answer a wolf stared right at him, glaring furiously. When the creature lifted one arm to brush her hair, it partially left her chest unprotected. Proud and erect nipples stood hard against the chill. Tristan opened his mouth in a silent gasp. And unnerved by his stillness, Melan decided he couldn't hurt him to take a quick peek at what had freeze Tristan on the ground. Melan didn't last as long as Tristan, he barely saw anything that he retired, breathing hard; his face flushed a bright red colour. Tristan watched as the girl leaned to grasp Tanjin's dagger. She was crying. He could see. Sobs were wracking her slender frame as her hands shivered around the grip of the dagger. Tristan observed mesmerized as she struggled to regain control, grasping part of her black mane and cutting frankly and widely. Tristan felt like he'd seen enough and closed the door so slowly, that even closed he was still standing facing it. He looked at Melan who appeared as shocked as him and couldn't talk to him. Right now, more than ever, he was finding it easier to keep his tongue in his mouth. His brain barely registered the fact that Tanjin, son of Attila, was a girl. He was moving without knowing what he was doing. He found himself in the confinement of his dark room. He paced trying to appease himself, perfectly conscious that he was being ridiculous, that he showed too much emotion, that he had seen it coming, that he knew the girl/the boy had a secret! He knew all of this! He even suspected that Tanjin could be a girl! But…Then… why was he surprised? If they had told him that Melan was a girl, would he have been so shocked! What exactly was shocking in the fact that Tanjin was a girl! He sat on the edge of his bed. He was now painfully aware that the bulge in his breeches had never grown limp. It almost shocked him to the point of death that he could experience such strong emotions for a woman... A girl…a little girl…a boy… another knight…. A person… What sort of weird attraction was that! Someone he barely looked at. Tristan didn't care. He just decided he couldn't let himself care at all. The situation was getting out of control and he couldn't allow that. He lied down, his head burning. One hand finds his crotch trying to stop the throbbing there. He closed his eyes. Tanjin was a girl. His body shook in a scorching release.


	11. Secrets buried deep

**Disclaimer:** None of King Arthur's characters belongs to me, of course. I'm trying to be as original as possible, but if you find similarities with another story, feel free to tell me. But no flame please! So the original characters belong to me, and because I'm a selfish Tanjin, I'm not sharing. You've been warned! Just don't use any without my consent. I know. I'm being rude. But these things need to be said, don't they?

I cannot even say how sorry I am. I have no excuse. A lot of things happened in my life and I just completely forget about my fanfiction account. I stumbled upon tit bits of this story and Nest of liars while sweeping the files in my computer and was completely mortified. I am even ashamed of showing my face in front of you guys. Maybe no one will never even read this chapter! But I decided to try redeeming myself ! Anyway thanks for your support! This is chapter eleven. I have been holding this chapter from you for so long that I just felt like releasing it right away. But I'm still french, and english is still not my maternal language, and I probably leave out lots of mistake. I will correct any mistakes you point out at me though. It's not a very long chapter but the good news is that next chapter is ready. I'm not sure this chapter is any good, but well this is it...

**11. **

**Secrets Buried deep**

* * *

ONE YEAR LATER

* * *

Droplets of water hit the cemented ground in a resounding splash. The last light of the sun shone through the broken window. Galahad gasped loudly as he woke up with a start. His eyes fluttered opened lazily, and he gasped a second time, when he realized the room was wavering before his eyes. Wavering upside down. Everything was upside down. No, he reasoned. Not everything...Just him... He was hanging, head upside down. The scream was caught in his throat. The air seemed suddenly suffocating around him. He seemed unable to fill his lungs. With a deep groan, he finally managed to let go of the piercing agonizing scream imprisoned in his chest all at once.  
He took a hard breath. His lungs were on fire, and panic gripped strongly his heart in his chest. He finally took in his predicament. He tried to move slowly, and realized his hands had grown limp from being tied above his head. His pubescent and muscular body was entirely supported by his feet tied to the ceiling. He tried to calm the growing anxiety he felt in the pit of his stomach. But to no avail, slowly, the terror was blindingly claiming every rational thought.

"Anybody there?"

His voice echoed in the empty house. He felt the first tears -which were far from being the first- slid down his cheeks. He swallowed hard the lump in his throat.

"Arrggh...Please..."He muttered weakly.  
He closed his eyes again, trying to calm his racing heartbeat. Every muscle in his body seemed aflame, every nerve alive, every bone cracking...He realized he had never been in such pain. Ever. A gust of wind washed over his wet face, sending a chill through his spine. His body turned around slowly and he noticed for the first time that the door was slightly ajar.  
"Help me! Help me! Help! Please!" He Begged.  
He saw the door move slightly aside and he closed his eyes, exhausted. When he opened his eyes, a pair of non-roman leather boots faced him, their legs covered with snowflakes.  
He moved his body on instinct, as he tried to gain back some sensation in his fingers.  
"Don't beg, Sarmatian. It makes you look vulnerable and desperate." Murmured an amused voice. "You're not desperate, are you?"  
Slowly the other man crouched in front of him, in order to look into his eyes. An evil shade of dark green eyes met a terrified set of baby blue one... Sharp yellowish canines gleamed in the dark, smirking devilishly at Galahad.  
"At the same time, I "kinda" like the sound of your voice when you beg. That's exactly the sort of sounds I like to hear! "  
Galahad almost chocked on his tongue in fear, before filling the dark room with his screams.

* * *

A season had chased another, life taking over as usual. Lancelot glanced at the cloudy white sky. A wooden Virgin Mary guarded the door of the chapel, insensitive to the cold. It was winter and snowing. White gossamer flakes floated in the air, covering his dark curls and the knight was barely aware of it.

There were a lot of things Lancelot was unaware of these days and a whole lot more he deliberately chose to ignore. Tristan followed him at a distant pace, wiping the frozen blood on his gloved hands on an already dirty handkerchief. Lancelot felt suddenly uneasy standing on the threshold of Arthur's haven. He contemplated the idea of waiting with Tristan there for Arthur to come out. But a cold gust of wind nipped the back of his neck, making the decision for him. He shivered lightly as much from the cold than from what he was about to do.

He pushed the door open and glanced backwards. Tristan nodded stoically and they both enter the christian sanctuary. Never in all his life Lancelot had felt so out of place. It was dark and gloomy but he easily spotted Arthur as he kneeled in front of the altar. Lancelot had trouble comprehending what sort of peace his friend could find in such a depressing hole.

Both stayed silent as they took in the unfamiliar surroundings. He was a few feet from them, crouched in front of the altar hosting the cross. Tristan took out a frozen piece of bread from his pocket. He examined it closely before catching a candle on a shelf. He warmed the bread on the flickering flames several minutes, then sat and finally ate silently.

Lancelot watched the scene in utter disbelief. There wasn't a place on earth where young Tristan could not adapt. As for him, he stepped into the chapel very carefully as if the room itself was capable of swallowing his soul.

His back facing the doors, Arthur heard them walk into the chapel. He finished his prayer silently, kissed the foot of the cross and turned toward the two men.

Tristan seemed wrapped in his own world as always. But Lancelot's normally carefree expression had fade into a serious mask of discomfort. He considered letting his friend bask in this unwelcome feeling a bit longer, but finally decided against it when Lancelot's face became paler and angrier by the minute. Since its construction, two seasons ago, Arthur retired in the chapel as often as he could. Here, he could concentrate and rest. He could shut out the rest of the world and close his eyes to see those he loved and not those he killed for a change. He found something more here, something akin to what Lancelot probably seek with women. Comfort.

Lancelot stared at a wooden sculpture of Jesus on the cross and frowned, not trying to hide his obvious disgust. He walked slowly towards the door as he suddenly decided that freezing to death was not that bad of an option after all.

"We should take this outside." Arthur suggested aloud, following him in the snowstorm.

"Tristan are you coming?" Lancelot said, with a certain edge in his voice. He didn't want to spend more time than necessary in this place. It looked strange and smelled even stranger.

Tristan looked at the massive cross one last time, nodding faintly in its direction. The few time he'd been here, Tristan had thought hard at why Arthur was so devoted to a god he had no evidence of existence. He could understand some weak minds like Danis but Arthur was educated. He was smart, sensible enough.

Tristan thought that there could be that Arthur spent his days in the chapel for another reason than the obvious one. Everybody has secrets. Maybe Arthur has a secret, and maybe he could only share it with this piece of inanimate wood. It wasn't about religion in itself. Maybe, just maybe, it was about finding a refuge, where he could let go of his responsibilities. He could just put everything on his god's shoulder and pretend he wasn't making big decisions for all of them. Tristan considered for the umpteenth time doing the same with the secret he had been holding out from his fellow knights for almost a year now. But then, Tristan remembered that he wasn't really a believer. And more importantly, that all of this means nothing to him.

It wasn't concrete. Tanjin trapped in the body of a girl wasn't real. Who would even believe it? It wasn't real because in many ways. Yes, in many more ways than he couldenunciate, Tanjin was a boy. That was all that matter, right. It wasn't like he was hiding something vital. It wasn't a real secret because it wasn't important. Who cared really? Not him in the least...

* * *

He walked slowly in the snowstorm finding it difficult to follow Arthur and Lancelot's tracks as the snow was covering everything. His hair was wet with snowflakes as he crossed the courtyard of the garrison. He pushed the door of the knight's common rooms. And at the same time, Tristan pushed the door to some chaotic dimensions.

Lancelot and Arthur were nowhere to be seen, probably because they had taken a different path than him. Bors was singing a song from their old country and that itself consisted into the worse omen. But the real tragedy, the worse was that not only they were all listening, but Percival was dancing... on the table... shirtless... in the chill. Tristan however didn't have time to register that fact as the door open behind him and Arthur and Lancelot walked into the room. Silence fell around the table and Percival slide in his seat pulling his woollen tunic over his head.

Arthur considered their flushed faces and their hidden grin, deciding that what he didn't know couldn't bother him. A statement, he will have time to rethink later. His eyes travelled the room, lingering on the two empty seats on the left side and he bit his lips, his face crumpling again into his habitual mask of seriousness.

He stayed up. And the knights joined him.

"We are not to..."

The door opened brutally to let the royal Hun prince bless them with his shinning presence. Tanjin had gained in weigh in one year. He was also taller. His hair was resting lazily on his shoulder, an entangled curl of brownish dark hair falling in his face, which was surprisingly clean from any grim or dirty crusts. The scars from past bruises had faded considerably over the time. Yet, his eyes were still of a scary green colour.

Tristan and Duncan's eyes shot up at his appearance. Tristan and him seemed to have the same ritual for a year for different reasons.

Duncan had admitted to himself lately that he indeed find the boy pleasant to his eyes. And admitting that much, had forced him to consider new strategies as far as their relationship was concerned. He tried for his own sake to spend less time in Tanjin's company. It included changing rooms with Melan who now had the pleasure to be Tanjin's roommate. Oh Duncan had tried recently to lose himself in work, helping Jols. But it wasn't enough to keep his mind from Tanjin. Duncan obsessed about him, worried about him, tormented himself all because of the hun prince. He was afraid that someone would see past his sudden reserve, or worse that someone would notice the way he looked at the other boy. It was just plainly sick.

As for Tristan, he watched in rapture, Tanjin's lips pouting venomously, his arms crossed on his chest stubbornly, his face weary from the lack of sleep, his shoulders shrugging his hair back nonchalantly. He wore his favourite set of black tunic, and thin red shirt, courtesy of Melan, who happily share his few belongings with him.

Tristan had spied on them so often since the brief episode of the bath, so often indeed that he thought he knew more about Tanjin than the Hun itself.

He knew that Tanjin likes the scent of wild flowers, because Melan always brought flowers from his strolls in the woods, and Tanjin always smelled them when he thought no one was looking.

Tanjin's favourite colour was definitely red. He liked everything sporting that colour, from strawberries to rose jam and wine, from wine to blood. The latter was something Tanjin like more than any bittersweet ale nectar. The boy kept his left wrist wrapped under a bandage of clothes, hiding his fresh scar to the curious eyes. Tristan had seen him bring his wrist to his mouth a few times at night. He even did it once just to understand Tanjin's appeal for the crimson fluid. So far, he had come with no conclusion.

Tanjin's tattoos were still an enigma. He only knew he had been marked as as a small child. He had been less than three year old when his great grand mother draws the claw on his arms. This he knew from a rare conversation over a drink between Tanjin and him.

He was born left-handed just like Duncan but forced to use both hands since his early age. That, he learned from watching Lancelot and Tanjin daily sparring sessions and also from fighting against him himself.

Tanjin was taught several languages, such as latin, greek, sarmatian, scytian and goth. He could speak in more dialect than he could read. And believe it or not, Tanjin couldn't read. It was an enigma of its own for Tristan who learned this fact from a very puzzled Arthur who tried to bring him to do so, one afternoon.

Tristan had the slightest suspicion that Tanjin was unable of focusing over things that didn't strike an immediate interest to him. And in that they were very much alike. All in all, it was all facts for Tristan. Arthur counted on him to do just that. His latest mission for the roman confirmed that.

Tanjin sat down next to Lancelot, receiving a glare from his mentor. They all stood their left hands on the wooden table as if they wanted to connect.

"To those who were not so fortunate." said Arthur. They all looked at the two empty seats that will remain like it from now on as Oran and Agglovale didn't return from their last mission three weeks ago.

Tristan looked away, once again drawn to the creature standing across the table. Tanjin's face was a mask of stone. He looked at the table, fidgeting lightly on his two feet. Tristan knew his last secret, or at least he thought he knew.

" We had an important mission ahead. Tristan and Lancelot confirmed what we all feared. The woads are venturing south on the order of their chief. Merlin."

All the knights exchanged looks at the mention of the principal leader of the woad rebellions. They believe that the woads had ceased to be men, a long time ago, probably at the same time the Romans invaded their country. How else could you explain the fact they had to fight or patrol during bloody winter?

"They're seeking control of a bunch of villages south east. Words had spread that they infiltrated the provinces of Eboracum. We have our order of mission here to find the rebels and stop their progress toward the city."

" I'm just wondering, sir. Have you seen the storm outside?" Blaez asked, shaking his head, anxiously.

Arthur's face closed even more if it was possible.

"We leave tomorrow. Hopefully the road will be clearer by then."

"Arthur", intervened Gawain calmly. "Don't you think that waiting at least a couple of days would be safer? I mean travelling in this weather... It's not safe. We will be easy targets to the enemies."

Arthur glanced at Lancelot who smirked in return. Arthur sighed.

"It's insane." Percival uttered between his teeth.

" What are we thinking we're talking about the Romans and the Woads ? A homogeneous bunch of crazy people!" Blaez spat venomously.

"We cannot risk innocents lives by delaying our journey." replied Arthur, already in a pretty foul mood.

"But our lives means nothing!" Blaez countered again.

" That's not what Arthur said, Blaez, and you know it ! The woads will not wait for us to get accustomed to the shitty weather!" Andreas added wisely seeing the reason behind Arthur's orders. "They will kill all that will cross their path."

" Why should we care!" began Blaez rising his hands to the sky.

"Boy, just shut up before you say something you will regret." said Bors, scratching the back of his neck ruthlessly. "There will be danger and not by the hand of our own woman. I'm in. And because they can't get enough of me, Dag and Brad will follow."

Finally the assembly seems to have come up with a decision. Tanjin was the first to raise, looking entirely bored. His mind couldn't seem to wrap over the fact that they had such reunions to begin with. Such meetings were pointless. Like the sarmatian slaves had a choice!

"Melan, Aggravain, Tanjin and Galahad, you're not coming with us." The sound of Arthur's voice perforated his hazy mind at the same time he was about to push the door and he froze in his tracks. He turned to protest but Galahad was faster to react.

"Arthur, it's unfair !" The thirteen-year old screamed.

"It's my decision, Galahad, and I will not withdraw on this." Arthur said in a resolute voice. Galahad said something else but it was drowned under Tanjin's attack.

"No way, Roman!" shouted Tanjin in the most commanding voice. Silence ensued and all the knights were mesmerized at Tanjin's transformation from a lethargic state to anxious and agitated. He always called Arthur " Roman" when he was angry.

Arthur, who was partially used to it, recovered quickly.

"I'm not staying here!" Tanjin growled again, marching dangerously toward Arthur. Lancelot put himself between the two.

"Boy..." he said extending a comforting hand to Tanjin's shoulder. Tanjin shrugged his hands off and continued toward Arthur.

"I'm not staying behind!"

"Tanjin..."

"It's out of the question, Roman ! So don't you even try ! I will not stay behind! " he said pointing his finger at Arthur.

Galahad fell back quietly, noticing the cold and dark, look Arthur was giving Tanjin. His hazel eyes appeared unwavering, which was really uncommon for Arthur.

His hands gripped Arthur's collar and it was suddenly the stupidest thing he'd ever done.

"Don't do that Tanjin..." The man said with false calmness.

"I don't care what you think you will accomplish over there but I'm not staying here!"

In a blur of motions, Arthur grabbed his arm and they crawled on the ground, Tanjin struggled savagely against his embrace and the more he moves, the more it fuelled Arthur's rage. Then without anyone predicted, it happened. Arthur raised his hand and strike hard. So hard indeed that it froze Tanjin on the ground. Then as quickly as it happens, he stood up again, leaving Tanjin bewildered on the floor.

"You think I want to have another of your deaths on my conscience?!" He shouted to all of them, and at the same time to nobody in particular. "Don't you dare contest my authority when it comes to your safety?! Do you think I'm pleased with the whole situation?!"

They all looked away. They didn't like to be reminded that their commander was just a young man. Arthur turned again his angry gaze toward the boy. "You don't want to be treated like a child. Don't act like one! I said you're staying here and that's final! "

He said before he walked briskly out the door.

Tanjin laid on the ground, unable to move for some time. His chest fell and rose heavily, tears threatening to fall. He felt defeated again.

The other knights knew better at that moment than to offer any help to the proud prince. In one motion, he stood, pushed the door leading to the courtyard and disappeared in the snow.

* * *

A day later, Tristan entered the stables in order to prepare. He was always the first to wake and come down here on departing days. He sat on a bunch of stray in the corner and began to gather his weapons and part of his armour. He began to be aware of a presence behind him and smiled mischieviously. He didn't have to raise his eyes to know who was there.

"Do you ever sleep?" A hoarse voice asked him.

" More than you, at least."

Tristan returned to his task, tying his armour to the saddle. Not once did he look at Tanjin, but he knew with a certainty that Tanjin hadn't stop watching him since he entered the stables.

"Do you believe that I'm worthless?"

Tristan paused an instant. Without looking at Tanjin, he asked in return.

"What make you believe that I have an opinion on the matter?"

"I know you watch me."

Tristan stopped again, this time he smiled very amused.

"Does it please his majesty that I watch him?"

Tanjin crouched on the other side of the mare's flanks thus forcing Tristan to look at him.

" Yes and No." Tanjin whispered with a devious smile of his own. "I don't like what you're trying to do."

Tristan looked up suddenly interested. Another thing he had learned, Tanjin often had two answers to one question.

"You want to see beyond... I hate people like that. Curious people always want to see more than there is in reality."

The horse shuddered, feeling suddenly uncomfortable between those two.

" You said you do like it too." Tristan reminded him, sheathing one of his swords in its scabbard tied to Illyria.

Tanjin's eyes darkened facing Tristan as Illyria was pushing away some invisible threat with one hoof. Tristan put his hands on Illyria's neck, soothing.

"It's because I watch you too."

Time seemed to stretch in one pregnant pause where neither Tanjin nor Tristan could find something to say. A gust of cold wind rushed into the stable, making all the horses nervous. Tanjin looked in Scourge's direction, as he was the most nervous of them all. Tanjin knew that Scourge wanted to run because he felt very much like it too. They didn't have a right to leave them behind like this, that wasn't fair.

"You will not succeed."

Tanjin turned again, fidgeting on one foot, biting his lower lips, suddenly unsure. He didn't stay like that however he was in a second back to his usual scowling features.

"I will..."

"You will try and you will get yourself killed." Tristan stated matter-of-factly.

"I won't. " The boy replied defensively.

"You're not as good as you think you are."

"You know nothing !" He replied, an cutting edge in his voice. " I could surprise you."

" There is no denying that Scourge is a runner, but we are better and more experienced riders. That's why Arthur chose us. You'll get Scourge hurt, then get lost and you will be dead even before we reach our destination...And Tanjin, you always surprise me."

Tanjin stunned by the last sentence delayed his protests, taking in all that Tristan had said.

"It was not my plan at all. See, you don't know me as well as you think you do !" Tanjin denied lamely even though he really had planned to follow them wherever they planned to go. By being here so early in the morning, he was precisely making sure he didn't miss their departure. Tristan looked at him, very amused. He looked particularly like a girl when he tilted his head stubbornly on the side like that.

"Anyway, I'm sure I could have made it." He muttered, pursuing his full lips, looking away.

"Would it be worth it?"

"I don't want to be left behind. It's boring. There's nothing to do here. I feel caged..." He said looking at anywhere but Tristan. " My mind... I'm caged... You're going to have all the fun!"

"If its new bruises and new scars you're searching for, you really don't have to go that far. I will be back soon." He replied, trying to comfort him. At the same time, his own mind was completely rebelling against the idea of caring for Tanjin.

But then, Tanjin did something unexpected. He smiled a very girlish smile as far as Tristan was concerned, and his bottle green eyes seemed to lighten at the prospect. He was spared the need to add a comment, as Bors, Dagonet and Braden entered the stables. They were followed by Gawain, Andreas and Callan. Before the sun actually rose outside they were all gathered. Arthur stood in the doorway with Lancelot.

Tanjin glared in their direction and left them to their preparation.

"Now, he hates me Lancelot. I can see it in his eyes. I can't believe I did what I did."

"It's very likely indeed." Lancelot said leading his black stallion behind him.

"I just knew you wouldn't help me." Arthur grumbled and Lancelot snorted.

"Not after you tear me away from the arms of a pretty girl... Let Tanjin deal with Tanjin! The boy has his hands full with himself. Let's concentrate on making it back to the fort alive!"

* * *

The knights had been gone for twelve days now. A thick coat of snow covered most of the roofs, the doors, and the battlements of the great wall. Tanjin had thrown Melan out on the very morning of the Knights' departure, pretending, not in such gentle words, that he needed to spend time on his own. He slept during the days and went off Arthur's god only knows where during the night.

Boredom was his worse enemy, some might say. Last week, he realized somehow that hunting made him feel better. So on the second week he started to hunt at night. He chose small preys that he could abandon in front of the commons in the morning so the women could cook afterwards.

The blue powder was running loose in his veins and some nights he found himself growling to the moon, or dancing outside Hadrian's walls until he collapsed from exhaustion. He looked rather paler than usual but because everyone in the fort was afraid of him, they just took it as a natural symptom of his evilness. A plate of food magically appeared in front of his door each morning and each evening and Tanjin honestly couldn't asked for more than that.

When Melan barged in his room on that morning, it was sprawled on his back, legs lying vertically on the wall, that he find the Hun prince. Crimson drawings adorned the wall. The bouquet of wild flowers from two week ago had long waned. The room was messy. Clothes and weapons were scattered everywhere... Pupils dilated, eyelids fluttering open, Tanjin was busy having conversations with dead people. However, Melan didn't have time to ponder what was wrong with him. He had an important situation in his hands.

"Tanjin, wake up ! Wake up ! Wake up ! Something bad happened! We should help them! They're in danger! The soldiers are after them! I think... I think... Maybe they got... they got them!"

Tanjin growled and turned on his stomach flatly his legs crashing on the bed in a massive heap. He pushed Melan with a lazy fist, like he would some annoying fly.

"Please Tanjin, I need you to wake up! They're gonna be killed! "

It seemed to catch some of Tanjin's attention because he grasped Melan's collarbone and get him to kneel at eye level.

" Speak quickly!" He said, his voice laced with authority. He didn't even open his eyes, or lift his head, the strength in his grip were the sole indication for Melan that he was indeed listening.

"Galahad..." Melan began momentarily unable to catch his breath. "It's Galahad and Aggravain...they got themselves into trouble ! Big one! The soldiers threatened to beat them to death! Aggravain was bleeding profusely when I left to fetch you! I'm scared! "

Tanjin raised his head at that, but instead of helping himself to his feet like Melan had thought he would, he just leaned on the other side.

"Tanjin, please! The romans' cruelty will have no end! I don't know where they took them! I have a bad feeling about this ! Something bad will happen! Please! Arthur is gone! Jols is gone! You're the only one left!"

Tanjin lifted himself on his elbow.

"I'm sure both of them deserved it ! Now let me rest in peace, will you!"

"No...They did nothing wrong! They just wanted to help Amery !"

"That girl brings nothing but trouble! It will be a good lesson for theses two idiots! No one should ever trust a woman! Except for mothers, they are all evil!"

Melan's heart missed a bit as he remembered that fateful day where he had accidentally learned Tanjin's big secret. It brought tears to his eyes, in frustration.Tristan promised to have his head if he so much as breath a word about it to anybody. But still, Tanjin has gone too far!

"You're the one to talk!" he screamed at the prince and before he knew what was happening, Tanjin leapt on his feet and assumed a defensive stance on the mattress.

"What does that mean, Samartian?" Tanjin growled, green eyes narrowing suspiciously.

Melan breathed his answer, a shiver travelling down his spine.

"I mean... I mean..." He started to sob. "You promised you would help me! You said you were my friend!"

"You're not in any immediate danger! And I never said I was your friend! Quit whining already!" Tanjin replied, crossing his arms on his chest, stubbornly.

But all Melan could do was cry harder.

"Oh stop crying, would you ! I'm coming ! Hope for you, you're not wasting my time...Stupid, useless boy ! "

* * *

As they were walking through the tightest alleys of the fort, Melan proceeded to tell Tanjin the whole story. They were all walking toward the tavern as an everyday routine, because Vanora always kept some bread or pie ready for them; when an argument between two legionaries and the young and beautiful Amery caught their attention. One of the men made the wrong move of grabbing the girl's arm forcefully and Galahad didn't think twice before speeding into action. Naturally, Aggravain stepped in to help him but the romans were soon joined by three of their comrades outnumbering the two of them. Melan hid behind a corner and witnessed everything a few step away.

At Tanjin's question of his inactivity, Melan blushed a deep shade of red. Tanjin knew without even glancing at his "friend" that Melan didn't move out of fear. He dismissed the question almost immediately. He didn't need another uncontrollable flood of tears from the brown-haired. All he wanted was to go back to his dreams.

"It was here!" Melan said pointing a corner. 'It happened here! One of them said they should show the barbarians at what place they stand! Another suggested to bring them both to their secret lair! "

"And?"

Tanjin rolled his eyes to the heavens, praying that someone had gifted the sarmatian people with some common sense. If someone had done so at the origins of everything these thoughtless boys wouldn't be running loose in a country so far from their own.

Melan shrugged, blushing again.

"I don't...know. I...just...I thought I would come to you! I thought it was the good thing to do! Oh no, It's my fault ! They're probably dead somewhere! It's all my faults! Arthur will be so disappointed. I failed again."

Tanjin sighed as Melan resumed his weeping in front of him. He took a step forward and embraced Melan awkwardly, as if he wanted to bring him comfort but Melan could at the same time bite his throat.

"Alright, I will come!" Tanjin said gruffly. "I believe those two worthless knights to be nothing but alive and kicking ! Life isn't so sweet as to take them away from us, I tell you! Well, you say that sneaky wench, Amery was there ! I should ask her few questions then we will improvise a plan, save those two basking-in-trouble bastards ! Kick some roman in the dirt! Probably kill a few! " He smiled when he said this part. "Then I will go back to sleep and you never dare interrupt me ever again! "

Melan could only nod.

* * *

Amery was the illegitimate fruit of a one-sided romance between a roman merchant and his Briton chambermaid. Her mother murdered cold-bloodedly her father when he was in the midst of passion. And nine months later, she died at the hand of her daughter in the middle of the bliss of delivery. However tragic that event had been, Amery's mother died comforted by the knowledge that her baby daughter was a survivor.

Amery grew up in a roman convent, raised to travel the Christian path as a servant of god. Unfortunately for God, she was taken out of this path the day, a faction of rebels attacked the covent and burned its walls to the ground. But Amery did survive the carnage; what's more she did with minimal damage to her pride. Oh I can't tell you the woad boy who was about to end her life didn't see it coming! Never had he encountered a girl who was so determined to stay alive! Never had he been so pleased with a virgin before! At the tender and burgeoning age of thirteen, Amery knew she was beautiful and smart enough to make a profit out of it. So when the knights emerged out of nowhere to raid the rebels' camp, two years ago, she knew it was the twist of fate she was waiting for. On this particular night, she started to entertain one new obsession: Marrying one of Arthur's knights or gaining the favour of one and in the very least die trying.

When Amery had little time to reminisce her past she couldn't help but smile a little, pleased with herself, as all the odds had always been against her, but she did manage to make it every time. Just like today when she crossed path with Flavius Sextus and his friends, she thought this time she couldn't run out of it. Then Galahad and Aggravain materialized out of nowhere with the perfect timing, saving her from the horrible chore of servicing theses two ugly old men.

Sometimes Amery wishes she had Sylena or Vanora's life, that she belongs to someone who would do anything to protect her, that she could bare his children and be a good mother and wife. Amery was not stupid; she could fake stupidity if it could please some men. But stupid she was not. She knew that she had little chance to experience a great romance or to climb the social scale of society. It would have been silly to dream. But she hoped that she could make the best of the situation. So when his highness the prince Hun entered the tavern followed by his effeminate friend, she couldn't help but gasp a little at how magnificent and charismatic he looked his hair tousled and his clothes damp from the snow. She immediately abandoned her patrons and went straight in his direction.

Tanjin looked entirely bored when he pushed the doors of the tavern. Andreva, a small russet let go of the plate of food she was carrying. Silence ensued. Tanjin's nostrils filled with the strange musky and overbearing scent of the place. Melan had to push him actually for him to move in the threshold. When the patrons continued to stare at him like he was some sort of mystic apparition, Tanjin let out a growl of frustration and everybody chose wisely to return to their own business. Tanjin's merciless green eyes fell on the petite form of Amery. For his greatest displeasure, the young girl smiled at him.

"Oh my lord, It's so good to see you! Do you want a table? I can find the best spot. Today, we have..."

" I didn't came for food! Tell us where is Aggravain and Galahad. Tell us now!" He demanded abruptly, his green eyes piercing a hole inside her.

"I didn't see them, my lord!" she lied, boldly, looking him straight into the eyes.

"Lies." Tanjin muttered.

"I was there I saw..."added Melan for good measure.

Amery's features crumpled a bit. She didn't look happy to be busted.

" Fine, I would tell you what I know but not here."

Tanjin just shrugged. "I will be outside. Don't make me wait...or..."

"Oh I would never make you wait... Everything I have is for you to take." She said with a flirtatious smile.

Tanjin chose to ignore her, and stepped outside. He immediately started to fidget on one foot.

"So, are we waiting for her?" asked Melan.

Tanjin also ignored him, as he tried to control the spasms that coursed through his body. The smell of wet snow was overpowering. He closed his eyes and strike the wall with one fist.

"Tanjin?"

_He eyed his mother suspisciously. The memories it did not welcome, but her...just to see her made his heart clench furiously in his chest.  
_

"_Tanjin?" she breathed again. She was going to ask him. Again. He didn't know if this time he had the strength to say no. She laid on the ground of their cell, her rags barely covering her damaged body. A smell of snow filled the air, chasing the putrid scent of__ death. _

"_You __trust me, don't you?"_

_Condensed air formed around his mouth each time he took a deep breath._

"_You cannot ask me that, mother..." _

_Her head tilted to the side. Her hair, which once had been shiny and soft, rested entangled and dirty on her back. Her strand of grey hair hid partially her tired eyes. She touched softly her dry lips with her left hand. The extremities of her fingers were a sick dark purple. He grabbed some ice on the edge of the tiny window opening. He kneeled and brought the ice to her lips._

"_I don't wanna die in Roma..."she whispered."I don't want to be their joke. I wanna remain a hun and join your father..." She coughed. " Tanjin, I am entitled to die a Hun. "_

" _Yes, you are, mother... But...It's too hard..."_

_"They can't take that away from me."_

_"No, mother."  
_

_She turned her face toward him, and he felt sick to his stomach looking at her face or what was left of her face." _

"_They're going to break us... Slowly... Break our spirit... Because they hate what we had... They hate us... They want to take our soul, damn Romans. They want to take my soul...If I stay alive, they will break you... They will succeed... Look at me Tanjin, my love...Come to me." _

_Tanjin swallowed hard, and crouched slowly in front of her._

" _Never remember me... like this... I forbid you... Do you hear me, Tanjin? Remember who I was... Remember who you are... Always... All the time... You are a wolf. You're Attila's Wolf... I love you so much... unconditionnally...Eternally... You're everything to me, my child... And I'm sorry... I ask for your forgiveness... I made some mistakes. But I love you... I'm gonna die anyway... I just don't want the pain... It's the pain...I'm so exhausted... My wandering mind wants to fly...I'm so exhausted Tanjin...Don't remember me that way...Don't remember this weak and disappointing shell... Please, it hurts so bad..."_

He looked away.

"_It's too difficult still. I love you too much mother. I am too selfish... Not man enough... Ask me tomorrow."_

_The door of their cell was thrown open in a deafening metallic sound. Two soldiers appeared in the darkness, armed with spear. Tanjin fell back in the opposite corner and watched them with glassy eyes as they took Olivia away. Give him more time. He would come to it. Eventually...Maybe... He would.  
_

"Tanjin?" Melan asked again. Tanjin gasped out loud, blinking back the dream.

"What?" The hun replied, breathing hard.

"You are pale. Do you feel alright?"

He was spared the need to answer when Tanjin saw Amery appeared behind Melan.

"I'm all yours, Prince Tanjin. What can I do for your service?"


	12. The puzzle that is a Hun's mind

Thanks Wilted flower for staying with me! The convent thing I knew, I just changed it on a whim at the last minute ! I was just being too lazy to open a dictionnary to find a better suited synonym. Thanks for pointed that out. I am still in redemption mode with this new chapter... Not any good probably...Very Confusing also ! You're going to start thinking I always say that... But it is true... I'm not very happy with this chapter... But no holding back this time! We ought to finish this story. You're all invited to review positively or negatively this chapter and the rest of the stories.

* * *

**12. **

** The Puzzle that is a Hun's Mind...**

* * *

While he listened to Amery as she gave him her side of the story, Tanjin couldn't help thinking that all of this wasn't any of his business. Galahad and him were as close as oil and water. He was smart. Galahad's stupidity could be sing in Hun song, would have said Talika. He had a mental glimpse of his brother's smooth features. Why Galahad would risk his life for a girl like Amery, he had no idea. She smiled at him wickedly. Nope, he had no idea, nor did he care to find out. He had noticed that she was a compulsive liar through and through. Always ready to let out a lie slipped pas her luscious lips.

"Sextus just wanted me to entertain him. Not that I would ever do something like that. I don't entertain men... I'm not like that... But they tease me daily. For fun... Your friends just misinterpreted the situation." She lied easily, smiling fondly at Tanjin. "That's all I know… It's unfortunate for Galahad and Aggravain, really. I was growing rather fond of them."

"You said this as if they were already dead." Melan, said, his voice trembling with emotion.

"If they're not, they probably wish to be. Flavius Sextus is a lunatic man and his men are like wild dogs. Everybody knows better than to cross path with them. What happened this morning was a terrible combination of circumstances? Now can I help you in any way, my lord ? Sure, you must be bored, staying here, doing… Tanjin?"

Tanjin stared blankly ahead.

"_I'm bored." Stated the brown-haired boy.  
_

"_You're always bored." Muttered Tanjin as he munched on an enormous piece of spicy honey cake, which was resting on his naked stomach. He was laying lazily into a bed of soft and tingly fur, his bare torso and arms shiny with sweat, even if outside the snow formed a bright carpet on the front stairs of the East wing. Oddly enough, the atmoshere was hot and breezy like in the summer. He couldn't remember...  
_

"_I can't help it. My mind never takes a rest unlike you lot."_

"_What does it tell about you anyway?" Asked the twins Bleda and Batur, as they play pretend with wooden swords. _

"_It made me considerably smarter than you." Stated Talika matter-of-factly, brandishing his new invention, with a grin. _

_Tanjin lifted an eyebrow at the change of expression._

"_If you're that bored, why are you smiling like an idiot?" He asked, as he pushed more honey cake sweat-stained crumbs in his mouth with delectation. _

"_Because I cannot stop smiling at my own brilliant mind." He bragged as he slipped the leather glove in his hands. He stood and his young brothers all turned toward him. _

"_Look at this, my dear brothers, this is the future of our army."_

_Tanjin lifted himself on his elbows. He watched as Talika moved in the center of the room. His tiny fists split the air fast, and each steps with deadly precision. He threw a kick in the air, gracefully. He made a hasty u-turn, catching Batur by surprise as his kicks fell dangerously close to his head. His motions were lightning fast, going from motionless to a sudden burst of power. His Eyes were alert and alive, though concentrated at their task. So, he never once touched Batur, his feet acting only as if he was blowing air on his brother's face. Regardless of his speed, his feet stick to the ground, rendering his motions flawless. Tanjin stood up slowly, enthralled by his brother's demonstration. Talika did a backflip, landing swiftly on his hands like a bird, before rotating again, like a restless monkey. Moving like a thundering wave, he grabbed Batur by his collar, bringing his left fist at eye-level, a thin blade shining in his gloved hand. _

_Tanjin was as breathless as his brother as he approached them, eyes watching the blade produced by the glove, in awe. _

"_This is…absolutely…"_

"_Deadly…" said Talika with a feral grin as he let go of Batur's collar, and the poor boy fell to his knees, feeling like he'd never been so scared in his life. "I know, I am a genius."_

"_How did you do that ?" Said Tanjin, grabbing his hands to study the blade. He wasn't that phased by the demonstration, because as Attila's progeny, they were all trained to do the same. He was better. Of course... He trained harder than any of them, that was for sure...No uni But the new weapon served a sort of fascination on him. _

_Talika took out the glove. " It's a simple work of mechanic, following Antilidès precepts on the alchemy of the four elements and a lot geometry variables…put in good use...I simply arranged the..."_

_When he noticed that he had lost Tanjin since the first greek words, he trailed off, looking at his frail little brother._

"_Anyway, I made this one for you, Tanjin."_

"_You did?" replied Tanjin, his emerauld eyes beaming._

"_Yes look, just the size of you girlish fists... The leather has been tanned to be very supple. Your pretty little hands will grow in it. "_

_Bleda and Batur all looked down jealously at their little brother. _

"_He can barely lift a sword! It's unfair! Give it to us, Talika?"_

_Talika shook his head stubbornly. _

"_Especially as he can't lift a sword to save his life. He needs all the help we can give. That's why he is the youngest..."_

"_Hey, I can… I so can…lift a sword or anything and beat you all." The youngest protested weakly. "Anyway, Talika said it's mine so shut up you all... I keep it. " _

"_Don't worry, Tanjin, the youngest. Your big brother will always be there to protect you. "_

"_I need no protection."  
_

" _I made this just in case, I'm busy ruling our clan to prosperity, and you do something stupid like getting your girlish bum into trouble." He said shuffling with Tanjin's hair as he took hold of the gloves like it was some kind of treasure. He was so mesmerized by it, that he didn't catch most of Talika's words. He finally threw himself in the arms of his brother._

"_Careful, little girl." Talika huffed good-heartedly, as he embraced Tanjin with a matching intensity..._

_And the lights went out._

Tanjin blinked once, then twice.

"What's wrong with him?" asked Amery to Melan.

"I don't know… I just… It's like he is trapped in his own mind sometimes."

_The sunlights warmed his back while the wind freezes his cheeks and nose. He surveyed the land swiftly. His green eyes gorged themselves of their beauty. The green of Hungary was hidden under a crunchy carpet of snow. The horde spread out on hectares and hectares of land. A thick cloud of black and grey smoke rose to the heaven as the decaying corpses of their enemies turned to ashes. More than a hundred general stood there in charge of thousands and thousand of soldiers on horses._

Tanjin blinked again, as he started to make out the details of the scene.

_Talika's horse neighed impatiently beside him. His own mount from hell was shaking nervously. But under the circumstances, he tried his best to stay stoic. He was a soldier now. He was a man… A prince… On this very day, he couldn't appear weak. It would shame his father. It would shame…his clan... He looked up and saw Attila's horse, trotting in front of the first line. One by one, his eldest sons joined him up on the hill. He distinguished among them the familiar faces of Diggizik, __Ellac, __Rugha, Warwulf. Talika shouted merrily and spurred his horse to join them. Bleda, Batur, Hubris and Sogdhian did the same. Tanjin took the reins slowly and carefully climbed the hill behind them.  
_

_Attila raised his hands. The crowd grew silent again. Tanjin lifted his head up high to try to take in as much as he could. Talika pointed in the distance. Tanjin followed his finger, noticing Keda's horse making his way among the soldiers. The spears hit the ground respectfully at his passage. He paused in front of Diggizik, and tilted his head, the latter swerved aside, bending his head down, as did his brothers after him. Tanjin happily drew back his horse. And Keda gave him a faint smile. When Rugha's turn came however, as he was the closest to Attila, he didn't let go gracefully. His grey horse neighed conspicuously, entraving the way of the favourite. Keda drew his sword and pointed a scimitar at his throat. Rugha smiled his most wicked smile, and finally backed down. However, he never gave his brother the satisfaction of bending his head in submission. Keda finally took his place alongside Attila. The King of the Huns drew his royal sword from its scabbard, held it out for Keda, who lifted it slowly in the air. The horde growled with a unique voice, like a pack of wolves. He thought he growled the loudest. _

_The lights went out…Again...He was lost in darkness...  
_

Tanjin shook his head slowly, trying to tear himself away from his dreams. He stared at the floor covered with snow. Everything was waving before his eyes.

_The corridor of the golden citadel of Kharaganda... _

_The black hangings on the walls rustled under a malicious wind… _

_His little fingers played on the wall… feeling under their touch the complexity of the mosaic's relief... _

_A symphony of echoes was filtrated by the heavy wooden doors... _

_Heavy gates in rich and deep mahogany colours embroidered with sophisticated epic scenes carved on them… _

_The stirring metallic sounds of the golden knobs…_

_ The scent of candles blowing in the air… _

_A soft hand on his shoulder… _

_The room plunged in semi darkness wavered in front of him like in a dream. Her hand bruised his, as they both ran unsure of where to go. Breathless, he felt like he was drowning, balloted from side to side by the rolling waves in the sea… He blinked away tears… Attila's dark hair was unkempt on his shoulder as he rocked back and forth a dead body in his arms. Strands of grey hair concealed the sadness in his eyes… The screams of a woman reverberated against the walls of his mental prison. Again... and Again...  
_

A hand hit his left cheek soundly. Then the world came crashing down around him. He fell backward. Melan screamed. And Amery appeared to be the more stunned of them all. She couldn't believe she just strike Tanjin of all people. Then, she realized it did have an impact on the Hun as he gained back the use of his legs almost immediately. He didn't look at her, as if he didn't remember she just hit him, or worse he didn't remember being there. Finally, he blinked back the rest of his dreams, and turn toward them, his face a mask of concentration. He frowned and appear to finally remember what he was doing there.

"Where to?" he growled.

And young Amery was so surprised that she pointed immediately a left alley, despite having carefully applied herself to lie to them, for the past thirty minutes. He pushed her down the alley.

After leading them through dark alleys after dark alleys, they paused in front of a door build in the inner wall. She glanced at Tanjin curiously, then at Melan. Finally she sighed, and pushed the heavy door herself. They walked outside the inner fortifications of the fort. And minutes after they started walking in the deep white snow, Amery slid on a piece of frozen ice, just in front of Tanjin's feet. Melan arrived to her rescue, but she batted his hands away, and turned, eyes sending daggers toward the Hun.

"You are nothing like the other knights." She huffed.

"I'm glad you finally figured that out." He said as he coldly straddled her, and continued on his way.

"You know what? I don't care what happened to him. You're mean and I don't see why I would help you. Or them for that matter."

"Please…" insisted Melan,

She stood, wiping the snow on her skirts.

"I have nothing to gain here, anyway."

"Galahad loves you."

She paused, looking at him, hands on her hips, eyes strong and challenging.

"How is it my business?"

"Well, It's certainly not mine…"

"Then why…"

"I have nothing better to do… Do you have anything better to do ?"

She sighed, and walked clumsily in the snow.

"I certainly didn't ask him to save me."

"I believe you. He is stupid like that. He is one of Arthur's men after all. They have honour or they believe they have..."

"I still don't understand why you feel concerned 'bout this. You don't strike me as the compassionate knight at all."

Tanjin glanced in direction of Melan, who was following wisely two steps behind. Amery smiled faintly, finally understanding Tanjin's motivations. She paused a minute.

"So, what did you take?"

"Are we going to have a conversation? I must warned you. I'm immuned against all your feminine wiles. Spare your efforts."

She snickered.

" You're funny. Tell me you don't find me the least bit intriguing."

" Believe me, I have enough intrigues here," he said pointed out his head. "… to last me in this life and in the others."

" We're not so different, Tanjin. Is it Roman belladonna, Nightshade, Hemlock, Digitalis? Tell me. I want to know..."

He silenced her, raising his hands in the air. He surveyed the field. He had notice something moving in the corner of his eyes. He walked prudently in its direction. A body was lying in the snow motionless. He ran toward it. It was Aggravain, lying on his back like a snow Angel who unfortunately was thrown out of the heavens. Judging by the thin veil of snow covering him, he hadn't been there for long. Melan crawled on his knees by his side.

"Aggravain…"He called out softly.

Tanjin took out his leather hastily. he cupped Aggravain's pale face in his hands. He expertly spat in his hands and stroke them fast. His palms warmed Aggravain's face enough so that his eyelids fluttered lightly.

"He's alive. But he needs to be warm up. You will go back to the fort with him."

"But..."

"You do as I say..."

Tanjin raised his eyes again. He exchanged his place with Melan, who tried his best to revive the blond knight.

"Where's Galahad?" Wondered Tanjin aloud.

Aggravain started to stir on the ground. He opened his eyes, the blurry figure of Tanjin leaning over him.

"Tanjin... Melan…Is that you?" asked Aggravain, weakly.

"Where's Galahad?"

"I don't…Just…" he shivered lightly. "They took him."

"There's a house in the woods." Amery stated. "I was taking you there, anyway. Come with me, Tanjin. Quick!"

"Can you walk?" Melan asked. Aggravain nodded painfully.

"You have to find Galahad…" He moaned but Tanjin and Amery were already gone.

* * *

As they entered the woods, Tanjin stopped running, finding support once again on a tree, as his body suffered another round of muscle spasms. He closed his eyes, and tried to blink black his dreams. Again, he failed.

"Oh no, Tanjin. Not Again! How much did you take, for godsake?"

Tanjin ignored her, his eyes staring blankly at his feet.

"_Where are you running to little khan?"_

_Tanjin froze, recognizing his brother's voice. It was not uncommon to find Keda, in his mother's palace. Rumours had it at the time that Keda had a thing for Ludmilla, his mother's first chambermaid. But then again, Tanjin had never caught them together, so he couldn't say for sure the reason of Keda's presence there. He liked this dream. He could stay here forever, he thought, His feet bare against the mosaic on the floor. _

"_Nowhere." He replied, breathless as he fumbled to put on his boots.  
_

"_You're an awful liar, Tan." Keda said, the corner of his mouth twitching lightly._

"_Tanjin!"_

_Unmistakably, it was the voice of Olivia. An unpleasant feeling wormed its way through his heart as he dreaded the events that will follow. He shared a meaningful look with Keda and his brother's smile widen. Behind the doors, they heard the rustling and the fussing of the delicate material that was her dress. It was coming closer fast. In front of a puzzled Keda, he jumped in an empty jar to hide himself. The doors of his room opened from the inside. Enveloped by the glow of the sunlight, she stood gloriously tan in the winter, dressed in a white gown, and her favourite hermine coat. Her face was absolutely flawless, lips fully red, grey eyes smirked with khol, her hair an oily unruly dark, adorned with gem of emeralds She was just like a mystical apparition for both Keda and Tanjin, who observed the scene through a hole in the pottery. Her eyes settled on his older brother, going from head to toe, not necessarily in that order. She paused staring at his scarred left arm. It was still adorned with the claw, but an endless scar now overshadowed the design. It was an intriguing sight. It capture her attention for several minutes before she let an appreciative smile spread on her lips. _

"_My lord, I am surprised to find you here so early in the afternoon." She walked slowly toward him, holding her fur around a shoulder with one hand, as she extends the other to him. He blew a kiss on the offered limb, never letting go of her afterwards. She smiled again. _

"_Shouldn't you be training, riding untamed horses, leading your powerful army, drinking, laughing at your good fortune at being his heir, or do whatever you young princes do daily?"_

"_I came to visit an old friend."_

_She appeared genuinely surprised and pleased with the idea. _

"_Really? I am surprised to say the least. It's been a long time we did not have the pleasure of your company." She smiled._

"_And must you continue to do so unfortunately." He replied coldly. _

_A grim expression chased the smile on her pretty face. _

"_I will." She answered defensively. "You seem in a hurry, though."_

"_Indeed I am. I must continue on my way, your highness. I cannot be bothered to be delay, particularly today."_

_There was a twinge of male pride in his voice. He even seemed amused. She glared back at him resentfully._

"_The council…" she whispered._

"_Today, The King and I, will decide when we will finally walk on Rome. Gaul is ours now... I can smell the Pope's fear… There will be carnages and bloodsheds…I must rest till I can." The word itself sent a chill through her spine. She flinched slightly. He continued. " Suppose I can snatch your chambermaid away for a few hours."_

"_As the High Queen of the Huns, I have many chambermaids, Son." She said, with a patronizing voice, even if he was superior to her by all standards, especially the criterion of age. _

"_And I've tried them all…I'm not picky." He taunted.  
_

"_Whoring! I should have guessed. What a royal activity, my lord ! "She snapped back, stepping aside immediately. _

"_You should know. You, who serve my father so well."_

"_I don't suppose you are jealous of your father as he happens to share whatever is his with you."_

"_I am not, your Highness. But I came to dislike the crumbs. I want the whole bread. I want Rome."_

"_Slow down, Keda. You're not the King yet." _

"_I will be and remember I will take what is rightfully mine."_

"_It's certainly not in the arm of a Chambermaid, you will find it."_

"_I know exactly where to start searching, your Highness. You, on the other hand… Did you happen to lose something recently, aside from your integrity?"_

_Her mouth gasped in utter astonishment. The nerve of him! The nerve of that man! She almost growled in frustration as she forced him to let go of her hand._

"_Where is he?"_

"_Running from you… Like always…"_

"_How would you know? You're never here. You and your bloody campaigns… You're just like your father…Bloodthirsty…Greedy…"_

"_I didn't remember it being such a bother to you before."_

"_I lied. I faked…That's what, we, women do, when you big boys go play war, showing your shiny new swords to your evil and ugly neighbours…"_

"_I recall again a certain roman princess plotting the death of her own father, carving her way to the throne, claiming the ownership of two of the largest roman provinces in the name of her husband, leaving a bloody trail behind her by doing so. Pax Romana, they said… They didn't know you… I am nothing but a soldier…You, on the other hand…" _

" _Stop now… Where's my child?"_

"_Why don't you give him some rest?"_

"_Why don't you mind your damn royal business? He is all I have, now."_

"_Is it what you really think?"_

_She froze, her eyes staring blankly ahead. Somewhere in the middle of their dispute, Tanjin appeared out of nowhere._

"_Tanjin?" She breathed, her voice softening upon seeing him. Staring down at Attila's favourite son, her eyes seethed with rage. How dare he put her deliberately in such a compromising situation !_

"_Oh, love, I was…searching for you… Come to me, my child." _

"_No, Tanjin, go play with Talika!" Keda said. _

_Tanjin climbed out of the pot, looking utterly confused. His gaze travelled from his Mother to Keda and back and forth. _

"_Come, Tanjin, it's time for your bath. You will see your brothers later." She said with determination in her voice._

"_Go play with him !" _

_She glared at Keda with something akin to feral animosity. _

"_Tanjin!" she called out. Keda turned toward him. _

"_Go now! Tanjin, that's an order!"_

_Facing Tanjin, he didn't see coming the palm of her hand, as it connected soundly with his cheek. _

"_How dare you! How dare you! I hate you! I hate looking at you… He is my child! He is mine… Mine alone! Don't !" she screamed, out of control._

_He grabbed her hands in one hand, and her neck in the other and pushed her against the door. She moaned in pain, and khol smeared her tears streaked cheek. _

"_Mother!" _

_Face contorted with anger, Keda growled low in his throat. _

"_I said Go! Now!" _

_Tanjin wiped his tears on his sleeves, utterly divided between the two unable to move. How did such a nice dream go from beautiful to everything being ugly and messed up! It was the question that could sum so perfectly his life. Oddly, he didn't remember the events played out that way…It wasn't as neat and as insignificant an argument as he used to be in his memory. He had to intervene, tell them to stop. Tell them, it was his fault and that he was sorry. Olivia's face softened. _

"_It's alright, Tanjin. You heard your brother. You heard his Khan… You can go now."_

_She shrugged herself free out of the Prince's hands, and stood, draped in her dignity._

"_Mother…"_

"_Go, love. Have fun with the boys… And don't get too sweaty."_

_She smiled reassuringly. Keda avoided his stare. _

_Tanjin made his way quickly toward the corridors and the garden. He hid behind a large column, incapable of going further. Panic clutched his heart as her persistent screams echoes against the walls. In the garden, everything became blindingly white. _

"Tanjin! Tanjin! It's a dream… It's just a dream."

Amery shook his shoulder, trying to wake him out of his stupor. Tanjin gasped, blinking.

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine. It's out of norm. How much did you take?" She muttered, grabbing snow, with her bare hands to wash his face with it.

"Galahad…We…" He pushed away her hands.

"We will not do a good job of saving him if you have another seizure and we get ourselves killed."

He batted her hands away, standing proudly.

"Stop fussing in my head, woman!"

"I bet they don't even know what you've been doing behind their back." She said.

"Why are you talking so much, woman!" He barked again.

"What do you think will happen, when there will be none left."

He stopped, looking straight into her eyes, annoyed. Amery didn't flinch.

"It's this way. We're not stopping anymore. It's a matter of time for Galahad. It's freezing here."

"I thought you didn't care…"

"I still don't. I Don't! God, you are insufferable! "She fumed.

* * *

Droplets of water hit the cemented ground in a resounding splash. The last light of the sun shone through the broken roman windows. Galahad gasped loudly as he woke up with a start. His eyes fluttered opened lazily, and he gasped a second time, when he realized the room was wavering before his eyes. Wavering upside down…He screamed.

The wooden house stood shakily in the middle of a clearing. Amery took his hand, leading him begrudgingly around the corner of the house. She paused, showing him a window. She put a finger on his lips. Tanjin didn't ask her how she knew it was there, and she didn't comment on it. He simply kneeled in front of her enabling the young girl to climb on his hands, and stand at eye level with the broken window. She wiped the edge of the window clean of snow, and it rained on Tanjin's back, who struggle to keep her steady. It looked like a hunter house, the ground was cemented, but the furniture was sparse. Two benches and a taple stood in a corner, a wooden trunk next to the door. Weapons scattered this and there out of reach for Galahad. On the walls, hangings for the game were empty. She finally jumped down.

"They left him all alone. They tied him up like a pig, the animals!" she shouted with indignation. Tanjin grinned wolfishly, his eyes filled with malice.

"I see… You stay put. I'm going to save my brother."

His smile made her blood ran cold in her veins. She watched him turn the corner, and waited hesitantly.

Galahad closed his eyes again, trying to calm his racing heartbeat. The cold wind blew over his wet face, sending a chill through his spine. His body turned around slowly and he noticed for the first time the door was slightly ajar.

"Help me! Help me! Help! Please!" He Begged.

He saw the door move slightly aside and he closed his eyes, exhausted. When he opened his eyes again, a pair of non-roman leather boots faced him, their legs covered with snowflakes. He moved his body on instinct, as he tried to gain back some sensation in his fingers.

"Don't beg, Sarmatian. it makes you look vulnerable and desperate." Muttered a very amused Tanjin. "You're not desperate, are you?"

Slowly the other man crouched in front of him, in order to look into his eyes. An evil shade of dark green eyes met a terrified set of baby blue one… Sharp yellowish canines gleamed in the dark, smirking devilishly at Galahad.

"At the same time, I "kinda" like the sound of your voice when you beg. That's exactly the sort of sounds I like to hear! "

Galahad almost chocked on his tongue in fear, before filling the dark room with his screams.

Hearing his cries, Amery burst through the door open and Tanjin burst into laughter. Galahad's voice died down immediately.

"What are you doing to him, Tanjin?"

Tanjin turned to face her.

"So you care, after all? See, we're not so alike." He slurred, completely intoxicated.

He climbed on the table, jumped nimbly grabbing the beamer and started to untie Galahad's feet.

"It's going to hurt Galahad, my friend." He said.

"No…"

His protest was halted as his body crashed on the ground. He doubled over on the floor, the pain being almost too much for him. Amery leaned over him, trying to tend his fresh scars the best she could with the tissue of her skirts. She glared back at Tanjin who was still balancing his body playfully on the beamer.

"Galahad, are you alright?"

"I didn't want them to bother you. I'm sorry… Aggravain…"

"Is alright…"

"I failed you… "

"Shh….Nonsense…You save me. They didn't bother me after you went after them." She said softly. "You're brave like a legion of men, Galahad. I can never tell you how indebted to you, I feel. " She looked at Tanjin in the corner of her eyes. The Prince Hun snorted.

" However, you certainly didn't save her virtue. It was gone years ago... She's just that kind of girl."

Galahad glared at him. But don't worry, you have indeed quite a few achievements to be proud of Galahad. You got Aggravain almost killed. You got beaten like a dog by a pair of Roman idiots. You dared disrupt me on my quiet time. I still got no violence out of it. Not a bad day! I say. You owe me tremendously for your weakness and your stupidity. You better remember it, Sarmatian. I will collect my due one day."

Galahad gritted his teeth in pain as he tried to raise himself. Amery leaned again to help him. But Tanjin drew her aside. He grabbed Galahad's arm and lifted him up roughly. Still Galahad emitted no sound but a painful gasp.

"I will repay this courtesy of yours, Prince Hun. I promise."

"Good. It's all I ever wanted to hear." He said with a haughty grin. His eyes darkened faintly as he took a last look at Galahad's cage.

Tanjin paused.

"_It's not going to hurt for long, mother."_

* * *

The knights's horses entered the courtyard of the garrison, minutes before Melan and Aggravain. Lancelot dismounted the first, glad to be home. He could not believe they survived the odds and made it back alive. He spotted the first the two young boys, and he shrugged Arthur's shoulder behind him.

"What happened?" He shouted to Melan, who was trying to support the best he could Aggravain's almost dead weight. Gawain dismounted, his heart beating in his chest. He almost fell in his attempt to reach them both.

"Aggravain? My brother?"

"He…. Is okay…" Melan assured. Gawain grabbed his brother's other arm, helping Melan. "He passed out again on our way here..."

Melan tried to catch his breath, hands on his knees. But he knew he was left with the difficult task of having to explain the whole story. " It all started…with Amery….She was there…They tried to defend her…but then… soldiers… And I went to Tanjin, and he said he didn't care… I had to convince him. And…then he…said he would come. Then Amery…told us they were dead… Then Tanjin was sick. Then we found Aggravain… "

"Where's Galahad and Tanjin now?" asked their Arthur impatiently, not sure he like or even understood the turn of events described by Melan. The brunet shook his head confused. Arthur was going to ask again when Tristan pointed out three silhouettes far away.

"I think they are coming. The three seemed fine enough. They're all walking."

Startling his fellow knights, Lancelot started to laugh.

"You leave them here, so that they don't get themselves killed. And they still manage to find trouble. I say Arthur your god has a bloody sense of humour. I like him." He patted Arthur on his shoulder and walked toward Tanjin, Galahad, and Amery.

* * *

A week later, the incident had been almost forgotten for some. Outside the weather was mild, the temperature low. The wind whistled softly against the windows. Little snowflakes fell languidly on the roofs. But the tavern was uncharacteristically warm and the atmosphere cheerful. Aggravain was back to play pranks with Gawain. Braden was back to smelling bad. Tristan was back to his observations, Duncan to his torment. Galahad was back to kissing the ground Amery walked on. Amery was back to being flirtatious with them all but Galahad. She was presently warming Lancelot's lap.

However, from time to time, Galahad's baby blue eyes would appeared weary and sad. He would look at Tanjin with a mixture of morbid fascination and fear. Aggravain would pause every time a roman soldier would enter the tavern. His brother would unconsciously hug him, or shuffle his hair tenderly, reminding himself that they were both alive. Melan would pat on Tanjin's shoulder once so often. He would feel a burst of pride when Tanjin would respond to his touch with a friendly smile. Unbeknownst to them all, Tanjin would not smile at Melan but at his life, which was rolling before his eyes like a bloody wet dream. Life was back to normal. They were still stuck on this island. Most of them still hated each other with a vengeance. Some were still wary of others. Eyes were still nostalgic or mournful. Behind the laughter, you could hear the sad complaint…from men deprived of their freedom. But they were in this together…

Arthur welcomed the warmth of the Tavern. Vanora, hands full of a crying baby handed him a mug filled with hot wine before chasing after a five-year old red haired, Bors's oldest bastard, who refused to go to bed. The others were watching in awe, even Tristan, as Blaez spat a mist of fermented alcohol into a small cloud of flame.

Arthur drew a chair for himself to sit next to his best friend. Lancelot pinched the bottom of Amery on his lap, and she yelped in pain. She turned toward him, pinching her luscious pink lips together.

"You, Mean Knight! You hurt my 'tenderest' part! I should go with my saviour. Sir Galahad is worth more than all of you!" She claimed, hands on her hips, before she sat boldly in the arms of the thirteen years old. Galahad couldn't look happier even if he tried. Since the incident, he was determined make Amery see him as a man. She kissed his cheek soundly sparing a glance in the corner of her eyes, to see if Tanjin was looking. But, she had no such lust, as the prince was lost in thoughts and dreams, eyes staring blandly, grinning madly. She put a hasty end to their kiss and got back to drinking ale, watching Blaez.

Lancelot smiled at Amery, eyes filled with mischief. She was happy that Galahad got his mood lift up a notch.

"You, here." He whispered to Arthur. " Does that mean that you quit travelling the path of martyrdom?"

" I thought I could take a rest for one night."

" That's a great move, Arthur. Because the ale is good, the wine is not bitter, and the company is a delight tonight."

Arthur smiled in turn and raised his mug of wine. He surveyed the place, satisfied that everybody was enjoying merrily Blaez's representation. Arthur glanced at Galahad, raising an eyebrow as he witnessed another clumsy kiss between him and Amery.

"Things have changed…"

Lancelot snickered.

"You think? It's bloody winter outside. Yet, it's uncommonly warm in here."

Tanjin's chair suddenly scraped the ground, catching their attention for a while. Duncan was helping the Hun sitting down as he seemed too drunk to stand on his two feet.

"Things have definitely changed." Lancelot said, eyes staring back at the young couple who kissed with a youthful enthusiasm. Arthur nodded, amused.

"Seems like Galahad is getting his bed warm tonight."

"Oh Arthur, you almost surprised me with this thought. Any news from that sneaky rat?"

Arthur didn't need any further explanation to understand Lancelot's reference to the the leader of the brutes who assaulted Galahad and Aggravain.

"Three other soldiers and him have not reported back to their chain of commandment for a week now. Tiberius has issued an order of arrest."

"Bollocks… Like he really will take measures against them…"

"Lancelot…"

"If you truly believe so...Perhaps, Flavius is hiding because he knows what will happen if he and his dogs ever come back." Lancelot replied, his expression suddenly darker.

Arthur nodded, thoughtful. He glanced at Tanjin, a flicker of suspicion in his eyes, at his odd behaviour. Oblivious to his change of mood, Lancelot continued.

"You have to give him some credits. He is full of surprises. They all are... " Lancelot snorted.

Suddenly, the door of the Tavern burst open, revealing the commander of the roman garrison, Tiberius Cicero and his men, wearing their armour.

"Or What now!"

The knights stood up as one, their chairs scraping noisily on the floor. Ignoring the obvious danger, the man quickly crossed the distance separating them, his men in tow. Tiberius Cicero was the youngest Primus Pilus in the whole island. He was only five years senior to Arthur. Son of a general, he was known to be a pretty reasonable man. He had on under his command a total of eight hundred men, which included the Centurion Flavius Sextus and his friends... His facial expression was grave when he stood before Arthur.

"What brings you here, Tiberius?" asked Arthur.

Tiberius sighed.

"I received news that they found the bodies of Sextus, Icarus and Livius. The three of them were found dead. They've been dead for a long time now, their corpses rotting away in the woods."

Arthur frowned.

"In view of the prejudices you faced, following their disgraceful behaviour, I was prepared to apply the common law against them, if they had reported back. I was prepared to punish them. I don't encourage violence of even disobedience among my men. I did not take lightly what they did to your knights."

"What are you to tell me, Tiberius?"

" They've been savagely killed Arthur. And I have reasons to believe that the perpetrator of theses acts is among this crowd."

The knights started to protest vehemently. Tiberius ignored them.

"Reasons?"

"A witness."

Arthur frowned.

"Allow me to take away the culprit so he can face an honest trial."

Arthur turned to Lancelot.

"Is there something you need to tell me, Lancelot?"

"As much as I would love to take credits for the deaths of these animals, I can't..."

Arthur looked then at all of them. And to be fair, they all looked guilty. Galahad held Amery's hand tight. Gawain stood by his brother protectively. Callan and Andreas exchanged knowing looks. Bors, Braden and Dagonet stood, arms crossed over their solid chest, their eyes challenging. Tristan was cutting slices of his apple with too much dedication. Duncan was standing before Tanjin defensively. The Hun was finishing his ale, making a disgusted face at the taste. Blaez still held his tiny torch in his hands, threatening. Everyone of them looked guilty at charge. He sighed defeated.

"What proof I have that he will indeed face a fair trial?"

"I will personally see to it."

"Who are your witness accusing?"

Arthur closed his eyes because very predictably he knew what was going to happen. Tiberius didn't disappoint him as he held his hands up for his men to spur into actions. Two soldiers walked to the end of the table, before Galahad, Aggravain, Gawain, Duncan and the Hun Prince… Not one of them looked like they had a clear conscious, except maybe for Tanjin… who didn't care either way… Unfortunately.

" Arthur, don't let them do that." Lancelot whispered, gritting his teeth in anger.

But Arthur didn't move. Tiberius stood before Galahad, and the young boy looked down toward the floor.

"Tanjin, Son of Attila and Olivia Solitius of Rome. You are accused of multiples murders. I abide you, in observation of the Roman law, to follow me and my men without opposing any resistance."

Tanjin raised his eyes at the mention of his father and mother's name.

"My mother was not "of Rome"." He simply stated coldly. "She was a Hun, soldier. A Hun."

"In case, you should not comply to this order. I will not hesitate to have recourse to violence."

"It will be not necessary, Tiberius." Intervened Arthur. "Tanjin will follow you. More importantly, his comrades will let you take him."

He pivoted to Lancelot who was holding an Amphora of Ale.

"They will let you… Nobody's going to get hurt tonight." Lancelot glared at his friend, throwing the amphora on the ground, which broke in tiny pieces and splattered its content on the ground. He threw a dejected look in Arthur's direction, looking very disapointed.

Tanjin snickered softly.

" All these roman blood… spilling into the frozen and sterile ground… What a waste…" He slurred, looking wasted. "Take me away. Kill me. Do whatever you want with me... But please…"He stood. " Don't you dare summon Roman law in my face… I might react badly, never know what could happen…Lots of blood could be spilled...Again..."

"Come with us."

Two more soldiers approached.

"Arthur!" asked Blaez. "You cannot be serious! Don't touch him, you scum!" as he stepped in front of Duncan and Tanjin.

Though he still hated Tanjin with a passion renewed fervently each day, he could not let the roman take away another fellow knights.

"Blaez, Duncan, step aside. That's an order!"

Tanjin stood, holding out his hands, with a haughty behaviour.

"I'm waiting, Roman… Don't make me wait! I might kill more of you…"

With a metallic sound, the two soldiers closed the shackles around his ankles and his fists. His eyes blurred by the shadows of his dreams, Tanjin smiled at his brothers in arms.

* * *


	13. Seeking Atonement

Hi Guys! I'm back! I'm trying to keep a certain rythm so I basically write, make some corrections and post. Thank you for being so understanding with the grammar part. Thank you for your reviews, it really keep me going this time!

**Penelope** Thank you a lot for going back to it even though there is a lot of mistakes in the text !

**OP** I'm so glad that you're back. I felt a lot of remorse for letting you down like I did ! Accept my most sincere apology!

**hpjedi1** Wow, I really like your review! Thanks! I tried to keep Tanjin from being too Mary Suish at times...There's a lot of drama surrounding him, that's true. But I feel like the Huns had to have a bit of history among them. So Tanjin, for now, is burdened with this history. I happened to think that heros are rarely born in happy families. So that's why his family is a bit screwed up... Nonetheless, that's all he had ever known, and sometimes you miss even the painful moments...I'm thinking though about alleviating the angst a bit and making the oncoming chapters a tad lighter... But there is some angst along the road. I thank you for bearing with me. We're in the Dark ages after all!

**the.wilted.flower** You are there with me, each chapters. I thank you for this.

This is the first chapter without some hun stories... I'm a bit unsecure like always. But here it goes... Tell me how it went...

**13. Seeking Atonement through selfish means is a very common hunnish trait…**

_A summer breeze mischievously played with his dark hair as he gazed down at the green valley below. Nestled protectively under the skirts of the mountains, in the heart of a divided Gaul, the small Roman estate stood defiantly, an anonymous patch of humanity in the middle of this untamed nature. The sun shone high in the blue almost cloudless sky. Its brightness made him dizzy. Slaves harvested the fields and the gardens. Horses trotted outside lazily. Cattle were out feasting on the green. A few children played with sticks and wooden swords. He felt his own anxiety grew, his limbs restless, battling the tingling wind. It blew soft strands of hair away from his face. He crossed his arms on his chest. As far away as his gaze could lead him, the rocky chains circled the valley, holding her captive in a smothering embrace, their peaks almost touching the seamless blue sky. Snow crowns graced the highest mountains, giving them a majestic air, forever out of reach for simple mortals like him. He dropped on his knees. His kingdom was over there… _

**_Above the Clouds_**

**_Beyond the mounts of destiny_**

**_And the fields of Blood_**

_As he gazed down at the valley, a sigh escaped his lips. His heart was thumping in his chest, each beat as noisy as a giant army of men walking on its next conquest. Bending over, his head touched the defiled ground. His lips kept moving in a silent prayer. He wished they could take him back. He promised he would start over. He would be nice, forgiving, wise and strong. He would acquire new virtues each day just so that his soul was allowed to rest in peace… with them. _

_The scent of smoke mingled with the East wind. Strands of hair stuck on his sweaty forehead. He gazed below and gone was the peaceful farm. Gone was his wish. Gone far away was his soul as hectares and hectares of blazing fields stood below. The fire licked the ground quickly, eating the green and the forest, absorbing the farm and everything on its path._

_He crawled on his back to escape the treacherous orange and yellow flames, and froze when he felt an obstacle block his retreat. _

_His body was trembling as he rose on his feet. Flames caressed his cheeks and dry his tears. He turned slowly afraid of what he was about to see. Had he known all along that he was wishing in vain? _

_An ocean of body and skulls covered the earth. The putrid and acrid smell of blood filled the air. Huns' spirit and soul were becoming food for wolves… The scream was caught in his throat. _

"_Be careful what you wish for, my child." A woman's voice said._

_Her screams filled his ears…_

"Shut up you, filthy dog!"

Tanjin woke with a start, blinking back his nightmare. His body was convulsing and he realized he lacked of oxygen. And he lacked of oxygen because the screams filling the dark room were his… or Tangwen. He willed himself to stop, and breathed hard. As he did, nausea overcame them both.

"Stop this bloody racket this instant, you scum?!"

He crawled on his knees and heaved the content of his stomach on the ground. Wiping his mouth again on his sleeves, he crawled back in a corner. Tangwen looked around, unsure. Her cell was dark, cold and humid. The scent of fresh snow was blending with the scent of piss. What did he do to them? Where were they? She grabbed her legs tight against her chest. Darkness enveloped them.

"So I see, you're finally awake?"

She sought the voice in the darkness, finding nothing at first but the glint of a metallic spear. The man crouched in front of her, entangling his fingers around the bars.

"We will not bother with you for long… The Praetor is on his way…" He snorted loudly, delighted in front of the Hun's frightened expression. His cruel laughs echoed on the walls. Tanjin willed himself not to show fear, but Tangwen's inner weakness for darkness, made it difficult.

"You will join your barbarian Ancestors in death."

Watching the roman guard leave, he smiled through his tears.

* * *

He felt her stir next to him, and tightened his arm to keep her close. She was warm and sweaty against him. He had dedicated his entire life to training and battle but it seems like his body had been made only for this and for her. Did she feel the same? Did he please her? What did she want him to say? What did she expect him to know? His mind reeled with unanswered questions, each one stealing away another shred of self-confidence.

When she pulled away from him, he slowly opened his eyes and swallowed. As if she could read his fears without even looking at him, she offered, breathing on his neck.

" You can touch me again if you wish ?"

Galahad closed his eyes, trying to calm his racing heartbeat. Every muscle in his body seemed aflame, every nerve alive… He was aware of everything. He was aware of her, of everything about her. The pace of her breathing against his neck… the scent of her hair teasing his nostrils… The warmth of her body enveloping him… Wordlessly, her fingers slipped around his forearms and her thumb caressed the inside of his wrist. It brushed delicately over his pulse. He bent his head low and pressed his lips to hers.

The feeling of her hands drifting across his naked chest was an unexpected shock to his senses. Her delicate touch slipped easily over his exposed skin, leaving a trail of tingling and blazing flesh in its wake. Her fingers explored every muscle, every curve, as though she was trying to map his body by touch alone. He realized he had never been so happier and so relieved… He had never felt so peaceful. He had never been so much aware of his own selfishness. Because there was no way, he could ever let her go. There was no way he could accurately quantify or define how it felt to be inside of her, to have her hold him, to look at her when he first entered her. The whole experience was a blur of vivid colours, intriguing scents, and excruciatingly painful emotions. He knew somehow that theses feelings were forbidden. He shouldn't be able to be happy. Not when his life was presently so screwed up.

He abandoned her lips and kissed an exploratory trail down her cheek to her jaw and then the soft skin of her neck, because his lips were so soft, so loving against her skin, it managed to put a tiny hole into the long-erected walls of her heart.

"I think I love you."

The loving words softly whispered though, made her blood turned cold in her veins. Yet she only lifted her head up at that, smiling tenderly at him. Galahad was so young, brave and pure when her heart felt so old, tarnished and flawed. She sat naked in the chill, turning her back on him. Her pale skin was kissed by the moon glow. Her chestnut brown hair curled on her back. She gazed at him, brazenly.

"You don't love me Galahad. You want me. It's different. " She said as if she was ten years older than him instead of two. He felt jealously rise in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to be the only one, who kissed her like that. "Maybe it's even better that way..."

"No…"

" Yes it is so…" She turned again and crawled on all four. "You will learn in time."

His eyes were drawn once more to her naked chest. He took a sharp intake of breath. She laughed, very amused. And this time, he felt blood suffused his cheeks. She took his left hand and guided it up to her breast. Her nipple swelled up in his palm. His heart raced against an invisible clock. He moaned softly.

Her right leg settled in between his, and she curled up against him. He felt something in him twitch and stir and realized, that he wanted her again. It was like he could never quench his thirst of her. Amery kissed him and it was not tender, nor was it chaste. She kissed him feverishly, with an abandon, which ought to be forbidden for any respectable woman. Galahad felt like drowning in her one more time. She threw a head back, and he clumsily kissed her neck, unable to pull away from the touch of her skin. His arms tightened possessively around her waist.

"I love you." He could not help it. He just wanted her to know how he felt. How good it felt to be inside her! Amery froze again. He truly believed he loves her. There was some hope in his blue eyes. She tilted her head on the side, her gaze focused on his muscular chest.

"You know he was right?"

Galahad had no idea what she was talking about. His eyes continued to express their undying devotion… And Amery knew she had to make him see the real her, because Galahad was a good man. At least he was going to be… Soon. She had to make him see before he got hurt badly in the process of loving her.

"Tanjin. Remember what he said? It was true."

Galahad swallowed hard. Tanjin was the last person, thing or monster he wanted to think about right now. She looked straight into his blue eyes, straight into his soul. She could see he was unhappy with the direction the conversation was taking. But she knew she just had to be honest with him.

" I lost any virtue I had a long time ago. And I lost a lot of things with it… Don't fall in love with me Galahad. I know that you believed your feelings are pure and justified… But they are not… Not really. You love an idea of me. It's just an idea…Me, I will simply never love you back. And I don't want you to get hurt again because of me. Because there will be another Flavius Sextus… There will always be someone like that who forces me to give up things... It's not even that I give up to be honest… I just let them, because it's easier to survive that way. I let myself be that way… Because I stopped caring for everything else long ago... It's really who I am. Do you understand? "

She leaned over him, her mouth barely open. It was a sweet, and almost chaste kiss. He tentatively reached for her, but her mane was just like water under his touch, slipping between his fingers. Then she got dressed, and he watched. He watched silently as she braided her hair back in a ponytail. He watched silently as she left. He was still staring at the door when the first ray of lights shone through his window.

* * *

"Maybe you should go." Gawain suggested out of the blue.

Aggravain paused, and looked at his brother, curiously. They both sat on the battlements of the wall, shoulders touching. Aggravain's long blond almost reddish hair was floating in the air. Scratching his head, the youngest watched amazed as the sun rose in the blue and pink sky, wind blowing on their reddened faces.

"What do you mean, I should go?" He said after a moment of reflection.

Gawain let his feet balanced in the emptiness underneath him.

"At first I was so scared that something happened to you, I felt like I couldn't breathe or think properly… Then I got so angry with myself for letting it happened… I did things… Aggravain… I just…I…I'm… I don't think I could handle it if something happened to you in the future."

"So what?"

Gawain was thoughtful for a second.

"Just go. I could arrange that. We could make things work. I could give you time to escape."

"You want me to leave you? "

Aggravain seemed astonished for a bare second then he looked away.

"No, I want you to go back to Sarmatia. I want you to go back to our family. I want one of us to live."

Gawain stared at the white field. A rooster cackled in the background. Condensed air formed around his open mouth as he breathed deeply. He stroked his hands together and blew some warmth in his palms. He thought that as the oldest, he was the one who should make sacrifices. His logic was simple in its selfishness and he considered he could live with it. Needless to say, he was surprised to hear his brother laugh in answer of his long thought suggestion.

"You are the stupidest brother I've ever had. And I'm saying it thinking that my last sight of young Gareth was of him on all four, mewing like a diligent Bors, as he tried to suck the milk out of a cow. So that should say something... about our family…"

Gawain smiled, remembering fondly Gareth.

"Don't smile, you shouldn't be proud. We're a hopeless pair of dunce. First, I would not make it far without you. I would get myself killed at the first corner of a dark alley. I'm not that different from Gareth. I, too, mew as I sucked the milk from a cow. Second, you're my brother, and there's no way, I will ever leave you to die alone. Never. Ever. In hell, I would do something like that. Third or fourth, I honestly don't know which come first, we're not going to die. We will live. Understood."

"Listen, I know..."

"I won't listen this time, Gawain. You're not making any sense. And I'm sure there is a rule for this in the brotherhood codex. I say we follow the initial plan. Mother's plan… She was a sensible woman indeed. She warned me you would try to bail on me, pretending to be heroic and chivalrous, you idiotic knight. Indeed she was the only one in our family with an inch of brain… And she said… May I remind you? We take care of each other. We survived. And we go back together to Sarmatia. No more heroic stunt… We will go home. She will prepare a feast. Every damn piece will find its place in time… And what will you do then?"

"I will find myself the most beautiful Sarmatian girl to wed… A girl like Kreha with thick dark hair, sharp blue eyes and luscious lips…"

"She was beautiful indeed. Even if a bit skinny and short as I remember."

"She will have put on some weight, little brother… She will be all puffed up, rosy cheeks, hair pulled back in a knot like she used to do, smelling like a nice flower, just waiting for me."

He pulled back is own hair, pursued his lips, fluttering his eyelids, eliciting a laugh from Aggravain.

"And you, little brother, what will you do with your new acquired freedom?"

"I'm going to suck the milk out of a cow, of course."

They both snickered at that. Gawain shuffled his brother's hair, and grabbed the back of his neck affectionately.

"Did you do it?" Aggravain asked at last.

"Would you respect me less if I did?"

"No. Not at all."

* * *

"Why are we here?"

Arthur grumbled, his eyes wary of his surrounding, as they entered the roman cemetery. They walked between the tombs and paused, in front of three fresh mount barely covered by the snow. Lancelot threw a shovel into his hand. Behind them, the sun was rising behind the hills.

"You cannot be serious, Lancelot."

"You don't want answers?"

"You cannot expect I will come searching for answers here."

"Why?" asked Lancelot, hands on his hips.

He gave his back to Arthur, shrugging defiantly.

"You cannot tell me why?"

" I need not remind you the wrongness of such behaviours. They were men… They deserved the least bit of dignity, Lancelot! "

" Dignity? They tortured Galahad and Aggravain! Dignity? When they tortured our brothers! "

"You know what I mean by that. We cannot stoop at their level…"

"I know you believe he is guilty !" Lancelot accused suddenly, shoving the tool he held in front of him.

"I don't!"

"Oh yes, you do!" Lancelot spat. "I saw how you looked at him. But what's more important, I saw how you looked at us. You also believe that all of us could have done something like that. We are just a bunch of cold-blooded murderers in your eyes."

Arthur looked away, for a minute. Lancelot seemed taken aback by his lack of reaction.

"What do you want me to tell you?"

" I want you to tell me what's wrong with you?!" He screamed, barely suppressing the rage in his voice.

" Then, I don't have an answer for you. Maybe I don't have all the answers, Lancelot. Maybe I can't save you all. Maybe I can't save any of you! "

Lancelot was once again at a lost of what to answer to that.

"You, tell me what is wrong with you, Lancelot. Not long ago, you told me that he should not be trusted, that he was dangerous and now you're scolding me because I admit I was wrong!"

"I said a lot of things, Arthur."

"Yeah, well…Yes... And I listened sometimes!"

"Maybe you should not! Maybe I don't know! Maybe the fact that I am stuck here, the fact that I am so bloody angry to be here, makes me potentially blind to all that could be good in this world. Maybe that makes me a heartless bastard, you don't know! Maybe it's me, you don't know! Maybe I did it! "

"What are you trying to say, Lancelot…"

"I don't know! I will get there soon enough! You are supposed to… No, you are the one who see the good in people. You are the one who believe in us, regardless of what we are, or what we did in the past… Regardless of our present actions… You are this compassionate human being, the one we trust. And you let us down… You betrayed us tonight."

Arthur grabbed Lancelot's neck, pointed a finger at him.

"I did not betrayed you… Don't you dare, you bloody bastard! Don't you dare put the blame on me for what happened to Tanjin !"

"Why didn't you say something? Why didn't you defend him… Us? Why did you stood there like that? Why did you turn your back on us? "

" I am lost. I am tired. I have doubts even…Still, I did what I had to do as your commander."

" What are you then, our Roman commander or our brother in arm? Make up your mind because when you send one of us to his death, don't expect to be both."

"Lancelot, I didn't ask for any of it. I'm just like you, my destiny had been bargained for me. I have a charge. And I'm prepared to lay my life for any of you. Don't ever doubt me on that ! However, I also have to do what is right."

"Then what's right?"

"You tell me! Could you swear on Tristan, Galahad or Bors's life that he didn't do anything to those men! Lancelot I cannot do that. This is why I will help Tiberius provide him with a fair trial, giving him the opportunity to defend himself. "

"Fair trial huh?" Lancelot snorted, stubbornly.

"Tiberius had requested the assistance of Praetor Lucius Cadmus. Tanjin is going to be judged according to the Common law."

"Roman law… You mean to tell me he will die under Roman law."

"Lancelot…"

Lancelot crouched on the ground, grabbing some snow in his hands, throwing it away dejectedly. He faced his friend again, his eyes filled with bitterness.

"I thought… I thought that if he'd done something I would see it coming. I would look into his eyes, and I would read him… Because sometimes I looked at him…and he's just like a normal boy… He plays, he smiles and he cries. And I can see a flicker of who he was, who he could be, just like you said. But last night, I did not see any of theses. His eyes were devoid of emotions, even the most basic one. How can somebody be like that? How can somebody be hurt so bad that they don't feel anymore? That they don't care anymore! Tell me how can your merciful god allow such things to happen to a boy his age! Tell me why your merciful god allow those men to judge him."

"I don't know… I don't have all the answers, Lancelot. Stop asking me! "

But Lancelot never stopped asking for answers from his best friend.

"Tell me Arthur… If I start…If any of us start not caring…Will you do exactly the same thing? Would you stop believing in us?"

He did not wait for Arthur's answer and left the cemetery.

* * *

Tristan paced in front of Arthur's room uncharacteristically anxious. That's exactly how he would describe himself. Uncharacteristically anxious... He did not know what was wrong with him. He had never experience such strong feelings.

He could barely think properly. One part of him was telling him to calm down, that Tanjin did not do it because it was concretely impossible. Then another part of him was telling him that the Romans won't care either way, that he shouldn't care either way. He didn't have time to think much about Tanjin's innocence. His instinct of self-preservation urged him to do something instead… Anything…Now…

Because Tristan could not live with the knowledge that Tanjin was a girl about to die a messy death.

He had to tell Arthur he was guilty because the fact that Tanjin was a girl suddenly matters. It matters to him. It matters a lot in general. As he had been pacing back and forth, an idea infiltrated his thoughts... He did not have a complete strategy yet. He would say he did it, he would lie to them, he would say he regrets it, and assumed the sentence. He would do all that and more… Simply because Tanjin was a girl…

She was pretty enough for a girl… She likes the scent of wild flowers and the colour red. She likes honeycake, the burnt crumbs of the meatpie. She was a girl who didn't like water, horses and Romans. She was a girl with soft tiny hands, rugged by the use of her sword. She was a girl with a strong lanky body and soft perky breasts…When she gazed into his eyes, her green orbs shining imperiously, like the Hun Prince she was, he wanted to keep her a secret for himself. He wanted to jealously keep her newfound beauty from the others.

Where the bloody hell all theses nonsense was coming from? He had no idea. Maybe Tanjin killed them… Perhaps he did kill them… But those bastards deserved every bit of the pain! He could have been the one who killed them if he had cared enough that is. He had simply thought it was not his fight. And he was regretting it now…

He sighed. Being like this was so out of character for him. He clenched his fist by his side. Tanjin was a girl. A woman…No woman should be at the mercy of the Romans. Maybe if he breached his vows and told Arthur, that Tanjin was a girl, a girl who likes red and honey-cake.

She was a girl and if he told Arthur that, no doubt that his commander will reconsider his position… But then, she would not be his anymore… They will all look at her differently. They will see how beautiful she is inside. They will start applying different rules to her. She would not be his…It would be a casualty in this battle… The loss of her… The thought of losing her to his brothers knights was more unbearable than losing her to the Romans…

How selfish was that?

He heard some footsteps coming from the stairs and hid behind a column.

Duncan paced in front of Arthur's room, uncharacteristically pissed. That's exactly how he would describe himself. He was pissed beyond belief. He would tell Arthur what exactly he could shove in his sorry roman ass. There was nothing wrong with him. He was convinced he'd have done the same things if it had been anyone else. Yes, thinking about it, clenching a bottle of wine, in his left hand, it wasn't so out of character for him.

Maybe he should say he did it, just to see what their great commander would respond to that. Would he give him up to his fellow Romans? Would he ask for Tanjin's liberation? Would he? Maybe he should do that. Tell them, he killed them for revenge and that Tanjin has nothing to do with that. Yes that's what he should tell them. He did it, not Tanjin. Maybe he did it? Who knows? He was so drunk tonight he could barely remember his name. Maybe he didn't remember killing three men last week. He had a busy week after all you never know what might have slipped his mind….

He sighed and sat down, his back to Arthur's door. As if it could work really ? Who would believe Tanjin innocent? Him? Realization suddenly dawned on him, that in fact he did not care, and the feeling of absolute trust was so natural it did not even scare him. He took a deep breath and tried to think properly. His mind was going nowhere. Numb with alcohol… All he knew was that he didn't want to lose, Tanjin. Wasn't it all the answers he needed? He couldn't lose him now. That was all.

Then, all of a sudden Tristan was in front of him. He could feel the scout's eyes on him as he struggled to stand, his gaze intense and hostile as he studied him. Holding his gaze with a matching ferocity, Duncan slid his hand slowly up the doorknob, trying to grab it for support. Tristan stood first motionless before he took a step forward, holding out a hand to assist him. Their hand joined in a silent truce, Tristan hauled him on his feet.

* * *

Tanjin was guilty.

He was so guilty in fact… That he didn't even come to his mind that he could be innocent. Somehow, in the grand scheme of things, he was responsible for everything that happened to be wrong in this world. After all, he failed them. Attila, Olivia, Keda… Talika… He failed them all. He had lost everything he'd ever cherished.

He looked around him at the emptiness that was his cell, which mirrored the big emptiness that was his soul. If he manages to remember her, maybe he could find a way out of his caged mind. For the past few days, he could not remember her. He could not remember her face without the burnt scars, the palace without the burning fields. He could not remember a time when his spirit was at peace. It tormented him that he couldn't remember. The blue powder in his veins did not help. They sprung more terrible memories in front of his eyes. He just had to remember the happy moments. If he could not, death would look like a sweet escape in comparison.

"Tanjin?"

Tanjin ignored the call. He did not look at her… He did not turn. He closed his eyes and wished she stopped tormenting him.

"Tanjin?"

An electric spasm coursed through the veins of his left arm, and he gritted his teeth at the sudden pain.

"Tanjin, look at me…Tanjin?"

He finally turned. He was drawn to her even if she was taking pleasure in hurting him. He blinked twice, because it was not the ghost of his mother, he faced. He faced the pale and ghostly features of Amery. Birds crowed in the distance.

"Melan gave me all these things on my way here, he is waiting outside as I am speaking now. He was worried…My lord, it seems that an awful large number of people are worried for you…"

For a long time, she busied herself taking out the treasures she had hidden under her skirts. She had left Galahad's room in the middle of the night, stumbling upon Blaez and Melan in the corridors of the garrison. Melan expressed to her his wish to check on Tanjin and make sure he was all right. And Blaez was mumbling something incoherent like Tanjin was his to kill and the roman had no business interfering… All in all they managed to convince her to use her talents for the "greater good". Of course, despite the fact that visitors were not allowed in the jail, she managed to smuggle some foods, some clothes and personal belongings of Tanjin under the nose of the soldiers. Amery knew nothing like a little woman persuasion to force some doors.

"I brought you some food." She said.

He looked as if he didn't recognize her at first.

"I have no desire for food." He answered weakly, staring blankly in the distance.

"I can see that." She replied dryly, pointing the puddle of porridge spilled on the floor.

Wait… It wasn't porridge! She realized, taking in the acrid stench of vomit. Nausea threatened to overwhelm her, and she too thought she would spill the content of her stomach on the floor. Carefully protecting her nose, she turned to him. Tanjin seems far away, his feet touching the horrid pool. How could he just stay there?

"How much did you take? How much did you take this time?" she asked.

He continued to stare blankly ahead.

"Tanjin, I will help you. But you have to tell me… At least, take some food it will help. I promise…"

"I don't want to be helped." He muttered...

"That's enough, Prince Hun! Snap out of it already! If you don't do anything they're gonna kill you in less than two days. Tiberius and Arthur are reasonable enough. You have to bargain your way out of this cell. If you don't swallow your pride, and help yourself, nobody will."

"Leave me alone, woman."

Amery sighed, exasperated. She turned around and walked away. But before, he could sigh in relief or relished in his victory, she was back, more determined than ever, armed with a metallic spear. She stroked the bars with determination making a hell of a ruckus.

"Stop it!"

"I won't stop. I won't let you die here."

"What do you want from me?" he whined. "I don't want anything to do with you. Don't you have anything else to do ? Don't you have anyone else to do, you manipulative whore? Stop harassing me!"

"I will not yield. Stand for yourself, Prince Hun. Face me if you dare…"

" Stop calling me Prince hun!"

"It's your name, isn't it?"

"It's not. Not anymore. I'm nothing anymore."

"It's what you are."

"Not anymore…"

" Alright, maybe you don't deserve it…Maybe you don't deserve to be the son of Attila."

"Careful…" He warned, coldly.

"You can't see them, do you ? You can't summon them…The memories...You searched, you tried, but they don't answer to you anymore. It makes sense now…"

"Stop…Leave me!"

" You shame your family wherever there are with your pathetic cowering, weakling. You are not a man. "

"Go away."

"You're nothing Tanjin. Maybe Attila was nothing too, just children's tale. The truth was that he was a coward just like you… How else can we explain that he sired such a weak child? A child with such girlish lips…A prissy…"

"Watch your bloody mouth, you insignificant whore!" He growled, rising on his feet, in one predatory motion. He slipped one hand through the bars and grabbed a throat tight. His green orbs gleamed with unrestrained anger.

"Do it, nobody would care. I would not care. Just like you. Look at me not caring, Tanjin ! Look at me being you ! Look at me being selfish like you!" she said, a voice caught with emotion. Her eyes swelled with tears. " Is that what you really want?"

"You don't know me."

"I don't know you. I don't need to. I can see how incapable you are of loving anyone even yourself… We're both different… They abandoned us in this world…without remorse… They left us here in this hell…They left us struggling… It hurts to be left alone…"

Tanjin released her and paced frantically in his cell.

" I'm stuck… in my head all the time. I can't leave… my mind…I cant' leave…I'm stuck… They're calling me… But I can't see them…They asked me to do things… Things I refused to do in the past…I failed them… And they're angry now…"

"It's the powder… They're not real. They are dead. Restless spirits called by the powder… "

"They're real enough and I want to be with them so bad…I want to please them so bad…"

"Tanjin…"

"The feeling is not going to go away. I need them…I can fight for him…Only on the battlefield I feel better…"

"Tanjin…."

" I tried life but she doesn't want me…doesn't let me. I'm exhausted Amery. Now I asked you and everybody else to leave me to die."

"No."

"Please…"

"No Tanjin…I told you before I will not yield. I can be there for you. I don't even know why… I just feel I have to, for you, Tanjin. Tell me you need me…Tell me you want me to stay with you. I will…"

"I don't…I want to be alone, Amery."

"You may need company. You may be scared in the dark…I told I would always be there for you."

The words sounded eerily familiar, making a shiver run though his spine. He studied her features, his fingers caressing her chin. Amery let him, waiting. He flinched slightly when he let go of her.

"Morgan…"

"Who? Tanjin?"

Tanjin gasped. Shaking his hear to clear his mind, he sighed.

"Huh…A part of me is indeed…But…"

"Then let me hold the hand of that part of you."

"Why are you doing this ?"

He grabbed the bars again, resting his feverish head against the cold metal.

"Honestly?"

He nodded, urging her to continue.

"I don't know…I just I wish somebody would hold my hand in the dark…"

"Go back to Galahad…or whoever had your favour last night?"

"He loves me. He thinks he loves me. But, look at us Tanjin… There's nothing pure and innocent inside of us anymore… We're just stuck in bodies that do not reflect what we really are…So how can I hold his hand back? How can I, you tell me?"

Surrendering to his exhaustion, Tanjin slid down to the floor, gathering his knees against his chest. She crouched on the floor just like him.

"I'm going to sleep now and dream some more."

She took his hands in his, her thumb caressing the palm of his hand. A bird soared outside.

* * *

Far away, the wind blows, carrying with him the gloomy song of winter. Behind a curtain of clouds, surrounding by a frozen lake, there was a fortress that stood upon a tiny piece of land. The sunlight couldn't reach the banks of the island, veiled by the heavy clouds. It was said to be an enchanted place where fairies lives and dreams in peace, at the frontier of the chaotic world of men.

There was a queen in this fortress because there is a queen in every children's tale. Weakened by a fatal sickness, she lied motionless in the dark. Someone held her hand and cried for her... A little girl… Almost a full-fledged woman now… A princess with a slender figure, curly unruly dark hair, and frightening grey eyes wide opened in the dark… A crow landed on the edge of the window.

"Your body is with me in those difficult times… But your heart is elsewhere, my child. Who now needs you more than me?"

She turned her head. She could not see the bird fidgeting on his paws, but she could sense his restlessness.

"Morgan…"

"Yes, Mother Vivian…"

"Who is it who has you worrying all night?"

"It's nothing…"

"I'm not going to die now. I will die soon but not today. It will be another day with me as your Mother… You must tell me."

"My sister needs me."

"A sister I don't know about. Is that it?"

She seemed amused, a faint smile spreading on her blemish lips.

"She is my most precious sister and I love her with all my heart. But she can't hear me…and I fear the worse..."

"You wish to go…You wish to be released from your oath. You have been a wonderful pupil and I can only grant your wish…"

"My wish is incompatible with my duty, Mother. I do wish to be with her. But I will not disappoint you nor my other sisters. I also hold you dearly in my heart. You too need me by your side."

"Morgan, as your Mother…I taught you about selflessness. Now, I wish you would be selfish… If she needs you and if you love her as you say, you may go as you please…"

"I chose a long time ago to stay with you. I chose a long time ago to lead after you. My sister will find a way to me…eventually…I will pray the goddess. We will meet again. I know it's not the end of the road…"

She smiled, stroking Vivian's hand against her cheek.

"It's not the end of the road for any of us."

"Morgan, when did you become our Mother?"

She smiled through her tears.


	14. Blood moon and children tales

I prepared a speech twice. But I will keep it simple. It's been 13 chapters and countless years of hiatus. You know me now. I'm trying my best. But sometimes it's just hard. This is not chapter 14. Chapter 14 rocks and was my best chapter so far (in my imagination). It was supposed to go deeper in the feelings of the knights. But this is plan B. I hope it works because I need to go forward with this story. I need to finish it in order to thank all the wonderful people that supported me since the beginning.

I'm still french. So I left a lot of mistakes. That's what we french do! Feel free to point them out. I will not be offended. I know it's hard to read a text littered with mistakes. So I will be thankful for all the support I can get. I am petrified. It's definitely hard to come back like a flower after so many months. But it's for Timeless rose and Regin... All the people who just believed in this story...

* * *

**-14-**

Blood Moon and children tales

The moon, blood red with a murderous bright glare in its center, painted the dark gray entanglement of clouds scarlet. White gossamer flakes floated in the air, covering his dark curls, leaving a chilly trail down his neck. Lancelot was unmoved and unaffected. He sat on the edge of the battlements. The void beneath his feet... The immensity of the snow field… The surrounding darkness… It managed to take his breath way. He held a knee close to his heart and watched the sun rise in the valley. He longed to be home. Before losing what made him human in the first place, Lancelot wanted to go home.

Was he cold? Arthur wondered as he stared from afar at the silhouette of his second in command perched on the fortifications. He leaned on the balcony of his chamber, his head filled with unnecessary thoughts, his heart full of excessive worries. What was he to do?

What was one man to do on a Blood Moon?

When he finished slicing the apple, Tristan took the time to look at it closely. He was searching…

For what?

He did not know yet. This apple, cherry red with a touch of yellow, like the dozen he had peeled before her, like the dozen currently aligned on the table before him, this very apple, had no flaw. It was unlike anything he'd seen before. He couldn't see any fault to this apple, nor its sisters. Still, he didn't have the resolve to eat it.

Duncan gently stroked each black strands of hair. He disentangled Scourge's black mane carefully. Uncharacteristically silent, the stallion did not protest his attention at first. But Scourge being Scourge, the horse neighed conspicuously. His lean muscles tense, his snout high, the Prince of Horses eyed Duncan suspiciously, his nostrils flaring wide. After a year of servitude, carrying the prince Hun, this very horse craved freedom with the same intensity than before. The soothing movements of Duncan's hand stopped as he realized something…

It was something he was not ready to face.

Something in his heart…

He'd known him less than a year. He'd barely carried this burden for a year. This sick feeling he was harboring for Scourge's master. How ironic! When realization dawned on him, his legs gave way. He was on his knees, his frame shaking, his face streaked with unwanted tears. How dare he fall for a boy! How dare he fall for that egotistical bastard no less! He was craving freedom as much as Scourge. Freedom from this overwhelming feeling… He wanted to return to his previous state. He wanted to not care at all. Damn him! Damn them!

Scourge stared at the knight with something akin to disgust… or contempt… Both… He neighed again, mockingly, this time, his snout going back and forth. Humans! Where was that dumb smelly Hun when you need him? He pushed Duncan playfully on his shoulder before heaving a sigh. Slowly, Scourge went down on his knees in the hay and motioned, in his own language, the miserable human to resume his brushing. Somehow the stallion knew that now was not the time to be picky in the choice of his groom. Duncan leaned on him with a sigh.

Strangely, Scourge allowed him.

Clenching his hand tight in the dark, Amery watched over the Prince Hun's shoulder. He'd just fell asleep after hours of shaking and tossing. She prayed all the Gods she knew that when he wake up his head would be clearer. She prayed all the Gods she knew that this was not Tanjin's last night on Earth. She prayed all the Gods she knew even if she didn't really believe in them. She prayed all the Gods she knew because she had nothing else.

Galahad stood in front of the iron doors of the jailhouse. Officially, he was waiting for Amery making sure she would go back to her room safely. He could swear under oath he did not care in the slightest about Tanjin's fate. He could pledge that he wanted to see the son of the Devil dead as much as the Average Roman. But his own lies felt uneasy coating his tongue. It was a brilliant devious mess. Probably, it was Tanjin's plan to torture him all along. He shook his head. If only he had been stronger, strong enough to crush Sextus and his men… If only he hadn't been that lost little boy… If only he'd been strong enough to protect her…

Perched on the edge of the bed, Gawain watched Aggravain stir on the mattress. Between Aggravain's snores and the gloomy sound of the wind, closing his eyes and finding peace was impossible. Careful, he got out of bed and left the room. A cold draft nibbled it's down the back of his neck as he made his way to the armory room. He grabbed a torch and pushed the door carefully. Blaez's bronze mace was shimmering on a wooden casket. Lancelot's swords were hung on the wall. Underneath Arthur's favorite tapestry, lying on a table, he found the leather scabbard of Tanjin's mighty sword. He unsheathed the sword knowing Tanjin and his territorial ways would have ripped him to shred for his audacity. He half expected the weapon to be stained and grimy just like the Hun's face most of the time. But instead the blade shone with a unique spark. It was the Prince Hun's most treasured possession after all. He put the sword back on the table with care and turned to his own battle-axe sitting against a wall. The blade was also brazenly clean but the handle displayed some blood crusts.

Blood was incredibly difficult to clean after a battle.

It was extremely difficult to clean after a murder too.

When it wasn't much of a battle…

Much of a fight…

Limbs and gore flying everywhere…

Splattering on leafless trees…

Wasting the immaculate ground…

Flesh immediately rotting away frozen by the chill…

Honor? What was it again? What would become of him now?

Going home.

How?

Arthur sighed staring at the fading moon.

What was it again that he ought to do in those circumstances? What was he to do?

She gasped. The pressure she felt was building, crawling inside of her, warring with a heart. She hissed. Incandescent sparks of fire rose toward the roof of the chimney. He stared intently in her eyes. Her barely disguised lust was buried under a deep sea of turquoise blue. He shifted on top of her and let his left hand run up the outside of her right thigh. As his hand traveled up, the flimsy fabric of her gown followed. Her lips were only encouraging never discouraging. Her back arched, she offered a neck lasciviously. Small, she was. But she was in no way innocent. Her tiny legs could barely envelop his frame. Salva had not changed and not grown an inch since their wedding four years ago. She had been fifteen back then, her body young and nubile. He tilted his head and leaned towards her slowly. Her breath quickened as his lips came closer until they touched hers. Against his mouth, she moaned. At that moment, all thoughts of anything other than her left his mind. He pushed her gown up further and crawled between her legs.

His lips found her neck. Her eyes fell shut as the overwhelming sensation passed through her. A breathy moan escaped her lips as he moved to the hollow of her throat. The warrior in him wanted to conquer quick and fast. He wanted her submission. He wanted her to give in. Spreading her legs, that's exactly what she did. She yielded under him, her body boneless under his rough caress. He dipped his tongue into the hollow of her throat then made a trail to her chin.

He moved quickly over her unable to take much more than this. A moan of regret escaped her as he broke their kiss. He groaned inwardly. This pleasure was not everlasting. It was fleeting and unstable. They both took it for what it was. He pushed a palm against the mouth of his beloved silencing her cries. She did the same for him when he grabbed the sensation violently, or when the sensation grabbed him, not wanting to let it escape, his pleasure shaking them both. A drop of sweat slid down his nose and fell on her beautiful face. She smiled.

"I never grow tired of the way you wake me up before the sunrise." Tiberius finally said after a long pause.

Absentmindedly, the brunet stroked his hair. Somehow, it was yet too much sensation for him and he growled low, biting playfully her neck, his erection revived. Rolling on his back, he shifted next to her on the bed. Despite the cold outside, their room was warm and dry. The fur over them was soft and wet from their ardent lovemaking.

"Or the way, I never let you sleep." She replied coyly.

"That too… What were we discussing earlier, my love?"

Rolling on her belly, she arched a back playfully, her face almost candid.

"I was telling you a bedtime story…"

"True… With Olivia Solitia as the main character…"

Her smooth voice had barely a hint of a Latin accent. His brown eyes stared at her in wonder. He loved when she told him stories about the old country.

Because Tiberius was born in Britannia, just like Arthur he never set foot once in Rome. His father was a high commander in the army of Caesar and his mother, the great-grand daughter of the old consul.) The furthest he had gone from the Island was a trip to Nemausus[1] in Gaul four summers ago. Artorius and he were still training under Pelagius' supervision when they stayed at Salva's father, the great Historian Peleus Cicero. As soon as he laid eyes on the young Salva he knew he was going to stray from the principles taught by his mentor. Salva was just too beautiful to stay untouched and innocent. It was at that time that they had caught on the habit of making love just before sunrise… She would tell him stories too... Another habit that they lingered afterwards… Sometimes it felt like she invented those stories just for him. But sometimes, her luscious lips were smeared with veil of truth and he learned a lot through her. After all, Salva was the daughter of one of the greatest Historian that lived through this era.

"Olivia Solitia… That was her name. A name that would be remembered in History..."

Tiberius kissed her left temple. She smiled.

"She was the daughter of Prima General Solitius, a distant relative of the Pope, a cousin to the emperor. When I was little, my parents would speak of her and her family in hushed tone. How beautiful she was! How mean and evil she was! How much of a traitor she became! She could even fly in some of those stories they shared with a bottle of wine. In one instance, travelling through space and time, Olivia appeared to the Pope in a dream and threatened him into giving up half of the Western roman provinces. She could fly. Her husband was said to be able to command to wolves. He was accused of having eaten two of his own sons. It amused my father greatly that people were so gullible and always so prompt as to disguise and adorn the ugliest of truths. "

" The truth which was…"

"Prima General Solitius was deemed by many as the "worst of mankind". He was a perverted spirit. And so was his bloodline…"

Tiberius smiled faintly. He was mesmerized by her beautiful blue eyes.

"This tale I'm about to recount is the most accurate story of how Olivia, daughter of Solitius betrayed Rome and became Queen on a whim."

"And how do you…"

"You really don't need to know this! Be nice, Tiberius. You are worse than our children! Listen… It all started when a girl named Olivia was born in the Tuscan's domain of the Solitius family. She was the fourth daughter of a man that hadn't any love or use left for them. Her mother died early on from sickness. She grew up fast among aristocrats and nobles without the love or care of any of her parents. Liquid green eyes, peach moist and soft lips, black soft tresses reaching down a backside, a curvaceous and graceful body adored by artists… As soon as she reached that age, she was known as the most tempting young maiden of all the empire. Her beauty was complimented in songs and poems as much as her rotten personality was vilified…"

"Poor thing!"

"With such attributes, a destiny of Misfortune was clearly awaiting her… Her father was desperate to marry her to an influent party. Rumor had it Solitius had tried to sell her virtue to the highest bidder and the emperor himself made a request… He wanted Solitius to send his youngest daughter to the infamous King of the Huns as a gift. Greedy Solitius barely thought about this request a fortnight before condemning the poor child to her death. "

Tiberius frowned.

"She almost didn't survive the journey to the Hun capital… But Olivia was born with a strong desire to live…The strongest of instinct…"

_There was a song that used to say she was mad, as if Madness was a quantifiable trait, as if madness was something easily discernable in the chaos of someone's mind. She laughed. Harsh pearls of laughter beaded together resounding against nothing. She laughed hard. The wind managed to blow against the leather wall of the tent they kept her in. Sure, she could not call herself sane either. She was about to serve as a lowly mistress for a barbarian monster. Sanity was the last thing on her mind._

_The nerve of that man who call himself her father to sell her like that to a bunch of barbarians! She was supposed to marry and birth the elite of Rome! She was a roman of High rank! A blood was sanctified as the cousin to the Emperor! She would be none of that now! Everything she was would be gone. She was about to meet Death in person. _

_As a child, she learned the art of medicine from their African slave. Her skills were such that her father's political career would probably have gone nowhere without her. She was such an obedient girl. She helped him eliminate his enemies when he had requested her to do so. She was ten years old when she made __her first lethal decoction. Was that all the thanks she deserved? The idea that she became a disposable tool in his eyes after all these years made her feel nauseous. She was not crazy. She was enraged… Filled with venom… Out of her mind with grief… The acid taste of his betrayal lingered on her tongue…Wrath…Unaltered Wrath... _

_Her body shook anxiously as she waited for her fate. Her wrists and ankles shackled together to the tent posts, courtesy of a captor. She tried to escape four times and every time she failed. Yesterday, they decided to tie as to the post. This morning they beat her because she refused to eat. Her face and her arms were bruised. _

_She was determined to find a way out of this. Tears streaked… Eyes blurry… She tried hard to come up with a new plan. Fighting to stay awake, she heard voices outside. _

_"The princess is sleeping, my lord." Tallulah, her idiotic servant from home said. _

_Tallulah was a simpleton. Why her father ever bothered sending her in the first place she would never know? How this stupid slave could answer so calmly when her mistress was tied to a column like a cheap sacrifice she dared not ask! It was so beyond her. _

_She screamed. She did not scream for help. She did not scream for someone to save. She simply screamed. _

_"The soldiers tied her."_

_"Why?"_

_There was a shuffle outside as if Tallulah was pushed to the side. Olivia grinned at that. At least, someone had a sense. _

_"Bring us some food. We will dine here!"_

_She did not recognize that voice at all. Polite and sophisticated, the man spoke latin fluently. Who in the name of god? She froze. Surely, this man was jesting! He couldn't think that she will share a meal with a foe. She was not yet that desperate. She turned her back to the door in a rustling of chains. She could not bear looking at his ugly face. She could not lower herself to the barbarian practice… She could not suffer the company of men, any men for that matter._

_Flapping the door of fur and tanned leather aside, the son of Attila entered the tent. It was not the first time his father felt the need to give him a nearly impossible task but this one was seriously starting to grate on his nerve. _

_It was his afternoon conversation with the Greek that started it all. Keda moved from his position in the entry of his tent. He put down cautiously the saddle he was holding. He undid his belt and set his scabbard aside on a wooden chest. _

_"What did she do, this time?" He asked, emphasizing on the last words. _

_A day had not passed without a report of disobedience. He was too busy leading the men across Goth's territories to care. Why was he always given those ungrateful missions while Digg rested lazily in Karaganda? While Rugha and Warwulf helped the King and his army strengthen the Hun Empire in Dalmatia? Keda sat on the edge of a cot. Well, he knew why. For Digg, the answer was in the question. He was lazy, capricious, dumb and a disgrace in general. For Rugha, that weasel would stop at nothing to enter in Attila's good graces. A brunet with the most graceful hips kneeled before him with a silver bowl of water. He sighed. Dacia moved in a rustling of gold strings tied to her waist. Dipping his hands in the water, he carefully erased the grime testament of a day of horse riding. He leaned and Dacia immediately rushed to kiss him fervently. He tentatively brushed his lips on hers before putting her finger on her lips. He nodded for Akakios to continue. The old man scratched his head momentarily disturbed by the sight of the snuggling young couple__._

_"She is throwing away all the food. She is not eating anything and I fear she will not make it home much to the displeasure of your father."_

_"She is your responsibility." Keda sighed. "Is one woman too much for you to handle, old man?"_

_While saying that, his hands roamed Dacia's almost naked body at ease. Akakios looked away._

_"I may not have his lordship's persuasion on the matter." _

_Keda snorted at this. What a convenient answer!_

_" In fact, I made quite a mistake my lord in leaving her in the care of the guards. She tried to escape again and they tied. It seemed now that she refused to feed."_

_Keda' s frown increased._

_"It was not my doing. I tried to talk to her my lord. Explain to her the ways of the Mighty Huns." He finally said as the favorite son of Attila looked at him wistfully. "I swear to Apollo, I tried ta__l__king some sense in that woman but she slapped me and tried to bite me. I left her yesterday in the hands of her guardians as she tried to break free again and that was what happened." _

_Keda snickered even louder. His brown eyes twinkled with mischief. _

_"She bit you?"_

_"With the ferocity of an enraged dog..."_

_"That is one Roman gift." _

_"I don't think it's a gift His Majesty will appreciate." _

_Keda slightly pushed Dacia away. He sobered up quickly. _

_"Whether or not my father will break the neck of the Snake upon receiving it, is irrelevant to the fact that the Snake has to arrive in Karaganda in due times."_

_"I know my Lord. But they certainly wanted to make our life miserable by doing __so. __I am sure your father will not even look twice at her..."He almost growled, his hands c__l__enching in exasperation._

_"Sending a roman of high birth for my father's festival was quite suspicious for me too. I don't think it is a way to buy peace. They probably want to buy some time before our next campaign. I will have a word with her. My father deserved to have a suited gift for his birthday. We don't want the poor girl to hurt herself by not eating__. __Like his Highness __used__' __to say, nothing is unconquerable. l'm sure we will find an understanding __... __of sorts ... What is the name of the princess, Akakios?" _

_Dacia climbed over the bed behind him and leaned to shower his shoulder blade with kisses. Keda smiled wolfishly. A unique feature he shared with his illustrious father. _

_"Olivia__.__.__."_

_"__What a strange name!" _

_"But with all due respects, my Lord, l'm afraid she is too stubborn to listen to you__. __She kept rambling about the fact that she will answer to no master."_

_"No obstacle is insurmountable."_

_"I recognized my Lord's magnanimity and passionate temper inherited from His Majesty."_

_"Unlikely. I do not know wrath like my father. If she does not make it he will not spare me a lecture. You do know I hate those, right?"_

_ "My lord could not be more like the King if he tried."_

_Bending over, Akakios humbly presented him his respect._

_"I trust my Lord…"_

_"If I was taught anything correctly by that pompous and devious father of mine was that women are born stubborn creatures. She is a woman, Akakios, therefore born to be stubborn. Look at this wild flower, here," He sa__i__d caressing his lover's ankles lightly, making her slide on her back__. __"Everybody used to say she was mute. Although, it is true that her tongue was cut out in her early age, we can communicate easily. We found a common language long ago. Hopefully, Akakios, you taught me everything I needed to know about roman lore." _

_Dacia smiled widely upon hearing he__r __name and kissed the prince's neck tenderly. His amber gaze turned to Akakios, awaiting his orders._

_"Wait for me outside, I will talk to her. I will rest for now. Make sure she stays alive and keep the guards at a distance."_

_His eyes were filled with lust as he glanced over __Dacia's partially naked form. As soon as Akakios left the tent, he buried his head in the crook of his lover's neck._

_Keda stood his ground. The tent was unkempt and messy as if ravaged by a storm. Rag clothes were everywhere. Raisin grapes were spilled on the ground near an incredible amount of food attacked by flies. There was a smelly puddle on the ground where she had thrown her cup of wine. He crouched slightly to pick up one white pearl, remnants of what had once been a necklace. Without turning, the girl answered his unspoken question._

_"My father gave it to me when I was thirteen years old. I can no longer wear it with pride. " _

_He frowned. Her voice was not nearly as mature as he expected it to be. She sounded young, fragile and innocent. How old was she? She looked very young. Were the Romans perverted enough to have send a child to his father? _

_Sensing her intruder's eyes on her, Olivia turned around warily. His eyes narrowed at the unlikely sight on the bed. The thin piece of linen she wore did not fully succeed in covering her breasts. The fabric was almost transparent in the ray of light. Maybe she was not a child. But she did not to seem much like a woman either._

_He walked to her and reached carefully for her face. He caressed her features with his fingers roughly and she jerked away from him, averting her eyes without looking down._

_"How old are you?"_

_"Funny how her boy ask me my age…"_

_"You do not seem afraid."_

_Green eyes stared him down. She had spirit. _

_"Should I be, Hun?"_

_He took a step back carefully. _

_"You do not know who I am." He said, still trying to take her wild beauty in. _

_"I do not care who you are nor do I care for the identity of your master." _

_He frowned again. _

_"I do not answer to any master but my Father."_

_Green eyes grew wide in recognition. _

_"You… are… his son… His child."_

_"Do not insult me, Roman. I am way more than a child."_

_She shrugged daringly. Her feet touched the floor, in a rustling of chains. _

_"Very well. Which number are you? They say the Evil king of the Hun has one hundred spawns. So which one are you? _

_His lips tugged in her wolfish smile. He crouched on the floor. She leaned back a little more afraid than she would let on. _

_" Try a guess?" _

_"You cannot be the oldest."_

_"No I am not."_

_"I only know of __Diggizikh__ and Rugha of the Huns by name."_

_"That is not nearly enough knowledge, little girl. Ignorance may get you killed."_

_It was her turn to narrow her eyes questioningly. He smiled again touching her ankles. He felt her shivering beneath his touch. She felt fear at last. Good._

_"I am the tenth. I am Keda,__ Son of Attila**, Prince of the Wolf Land above the Sky, Third general of the Army of Attila." **_

_Her eyes traveled him as if lost. A General? A Prince? Attila's Son ? Red suffused her cheeks. She felt warm and sweaty. She felt generally humiliated in front of him. He looks so different than the men she had seen before. But yet at the same time, he was strangely familiar to her. He was tall, not much older than her, way younger than the greek one, a thousand times more handsome too. He could not be associated with any tales she heard about the almighty Huns warriors, those who eat children and rape women for a living. His skin was made of bronze and his eyes were of a rich amber color. He was well-built with lean smooth features. His hair... was untamed at the most like they never saw a comb. They were tangled with brownish locks gathered in one tail that reached his back._

_"Your looks are deceiving too…" She muttered._

_ "So I've been told…"_

_She tried to move again and found herself unable too. _

_"Did they hurt you? He asked again. "Did my men do this to you?"_

_"I did most of it myself." She whispered. "I tried to escape."_

_She stared at him confused. What game was he playing with her? _

_"Will you recognize them if you see them?"_

_She tilted her head on the side. She nodded once. She did not trust herself to sound dignified at that moment because he still had a firm hand on her ankles. All manners of sensations coursed through a body from that point, she could barely think. _

_He got up again and she watched him depart. He gathered the guardians in charge of her around the tent. He returned minutes later with two men she recognized as her jailors. One of them was significantly taller than the prince. He gave them some instructions in that savage language of his and the men approached the bed. She backed away like an animal trapped. But instead of harming her again as she was sure they would, they kneeled to free her of all manacles. She looked at them warily massaging her sore wrists. One of them even handed her a new dress. The soldier stared at Keda, waiting. They were no lust in their deep-seated eyes, only fear._

_"Who was the one who harm you?" Keda asked again. "Are both of them guilty?"_

_Both soldiers shook their heads frantically in front of the young girl. Olivia's eyes fell on one of the soldier, and she remembered clearly the way he had grasped her hair and almost strangled her to tie her down. The memory almost sent her reeling in fear. She shook her head nervously. There were traces of the child she thought she left behind years ago. She was scared for good reasons. _

_"They were many. I did not really remember their faces."_

_His hands pushed a strand of black hair away from a face. She flinched at his touch. _

_"You have nothing to fear anymore. No harm will befall on you. You're the king's..." He seems to search for the perfect latin word. "...guest. They should have treated you as such. Be quick. Decide. Which one should die? "_

_Green eyes grew wide. _

_"Should I killed them both, Lady Olivia?"_

_ She stayed silently clutching the piece of clothes over her body for protection. This boy… No, this man in front of her… This man was manipulating her. He was… Were all the Huns this smart? _

_She lifted her eyes defiantly. Golden eyes stared right at her with amusement. Were they not supposed to be dumb brutes? Were they not supposed to be mere savages? _

_"Him." _

_She pointed in the direction at the tallest merely by pure coincidence. She willed her own hand to not shiver in front of him. _

_ Balas immediately lunged to grab her. _

_"Lying whore! You liar! " _

_Swift as the wind, Keda's sword was under his throat before he moved more than an inch. Balas growled. This couldn't be happening to him!_

_"Do you believe the Roman, Lord ? She had it coming! That bitch tried to escape!"_

_"Outside. Now." Keda simply said. "Join us when you are ready, Princess."_

_When she was alone, she tried to contemplate her options. If she was to run again, it would probably mean her death. That was the message he was clearly sending. The chill she felt when he touched her ankle. It almost rendered her speechless in front of him. She was not to try to outsmart him because he will not hesitate to kill her like he will not hesitate punishing his fellow soldiers. She was intrigued. He tried to manipulate her like she was a mere child. She smiled, hands shivering. They were two children playing war games. She was an incredible player too. She wanted to survive. Survival was all that matters. _

_Dressed in green, she went out in the sun for the first time since the beginning of her journey. She stood, hands covering her eyes. She tried to accommodate the glaring sun. __A summer breeze played with her dark hair. __She walked where the young lord had gathered a huge crowd of servants and soldiers. She stumbled and was caught by the old man, the Greek she had chased earlier. He had a firm grip on her shoulder to help her steady herself. Upset, she dismissed him with her glare and poor Akakios raised his eyes to the sky._

_"Lord Keda, surely you will not take that Roman's word over ours! She tried to escape four times. What were we supposed to do? Cuddle her! She only had what she deserved!"_

_The eyes of the Prince fell on her. She struggled to keep her composure and mustered every bit of courage she had. She will not yield. He turned to the soldiers. _

_"On your knees." _

_Balas opened his mouth dumbfounded. He bent over humbly. _

_"My lord cannot ask me such a thing." _

_Olivia stood next to him. The crowd grew silent. Keda simply frowned._

_"Are you questioning me?"_

_"No… No, my Lord ! But… Kneeling… Prince Keda…Have mercy."_

_"Mercy. What is that? Are you not a Hun?"_

_Kneeling was an act of ultimate submission in Hun Society. There was no backing down. No way to regain the esteem that would be lost. It was the most degrading way to die. If he didn't die now, he would die later of shame and dishonor. He would not survive after having put one knee on the floor. _

_"I said: on your knees."_

_His companion Hormidac was trying desperately to disappear in the background. _

_"You too." Keda said slowly. _

_The crowd grew silent. The deafening sound of the wind could be heard in the taiga. _

_"Keda… Son of Attila !" They pleaded. _

_Shimmering under the sun, his pointy scimitar caressed Hormidac's heart. _

_ "Do not call for my Father so carelessly. If you do not compel I will cut your legs until you find yourself in the desirable position. That is my will. Kneel."_

_Both men fell to their knees. The crowd heaved a sigh. _

_"My lord, perhaps the punishment is worse than the crime." Akakios pointed out nervously._

_"Do not question my logic unless you want to join them." He stated calmly._

_Ruthless. Her eyes widened at his ruthlessness. Akakios stepped aside and decided to not say anything else._

_"A Hun's life is sacred in the eyes of another Hun. All your lives are consecrated in my eyes because we share the strongest of blood. Guiding all of you through eternal life, that is the only desire of the King. The survival and the prosperity of the clan prevailed. No Hun should interfere or place his selfish and weak desires above those of the Clan. We are at war. But victory is already ours. The Romans fear us even when they do not know us…They are aware of their own loss."_

_The soldiers nodded, their spear hitting the ground. She flinched unwillingly at the vibration. Olivia surveyed the field for the first time. Was that his army? Was that Attila's Army? They were gathered in numbers. She couldn't imagine any Roman army having a chance against them. She did not stand a chance. Keda purposefully turned to address those on his left side. Those 3 000 men marching with him were barely a small portion of his father's army. _

_"This woman, here, is the cousin of the emperor Theodosius. She is a war prize. She was sent as a gift to my father, Attila, the emperor of the Huns. She is his guest. You will all do as the lady order and treat her with all the deference due to her ranks. Balas and Hormidac had hurt her in ways my father would find intolerable and they shall pay for all the harm fallen on her as a direct offence to my father's rule. Lady Olivia, it seemed natural that you will be the one to choose their fate."_

_Olivia gasped in astonishment but she instantly recovered from years of practices. Men are born and men died, she sing-sang mentally. She tried to remember why she was there in the first place and as the familiar anger work its way into her heart she stepped forward to the surprise of the crowd. She will not be weak. She will survive this. She turned to Akakios._

_"You. Translate my words faithfully. You, are you regretting your actions? Do you feel remorse, soldier? I will be merciful if you admit the errors of your ways."_

_Akakios did as he was told. There was no word for Mercy in Hun as it was considered more degrading than a disease. As such Balas spat on the ground. Mercy again ! He had no more room for it. _

_"Mercy is a trait uniquely despised among the Mighty Huns." Keda explained, his lips twitching. _

_"Is that so?"_

_"Maybe you do not wish for their death. Any punishment you see fit…then."_

_The crowd snorted with disappointment. Bloodbaths were always a welcome distraction. _

_"They will die." _

_The crowd gasped again. _

_"Very well…" Keda unsheathed his sword and prepared himself to finish those two quickly thinking they'd probably suffer enough. _

_"Lend me your sword, Son of Attila." _

_Akakios translated. Golden eyes narrowed suspiciously. She gave him a pointed look befitting of a queen._

_"As Mercy is not the way of the Mighty Hun, I should act accordingly, my lord. I humbly ask you to lend me your sword."_

_He turned around in direction of Akakios. The crowd approved the sentence and cheered. Slowly he placed the sword in her hand. It was way too heavy for her. So she struggled to lift it above her head. She put the edge of the blade on Balas' head. Balas bared his teeth menacingly she lifted the sword in the air and with an anguished cry severed his head from his jerking body, jets of blood flying in the air, spraying her dress with crimson. Keda raised one eyebrow surprised. He didn't expect her to back her words so effectively. She pushed him away from her next target. With both hands, she pushed the scimitar vertically in his neck the Roman's way and severed Hormidac's life in turn. The crowd cheered again. _

_Akakios looked at his master worriedly. Keda was frozen to the ground. _

_"I will learn the lore and traditions of the Mighty Huns if you're so nice as to personally teach me, my Lord." She said her hands bloody. "As an emissary from my country, I truly don't want to disappoint the King."_

_Keda had never witnessed such a thing. He'd half expected her to back away from a first statement. He expected her to yield. But the Roman did not. Green eyes stared at him with malice. They were two children. They were both great with war game._

_He knew for a fact that Attila will love that woman and feast on her soul. He knew this for a fact because he knew that he was already inclined to. _

_She let down the bloodied sword and gave it past to the prince. Pushing past him, she walked back toward her tent. He stopped her. _

_"Lady Olivia," He said calmly, his eyes stern. "I want to make things clear between us. If you want to escape, I advise you to think wisely. As I already said you are my father's guest and no one is allowed to refuse his hospitality. Should you deceived me or my father one day, I will not hesitate to kill you… crush you with my bare hands until your very existence is wiped from the memory of your people." A smile crept on his handsome face. "Now if you would be kind enough to share a modest meal with me princess. I will be delighted with the company."_

_She watched her bloody hands, processing what had just happened, all he had told her._

_Her options were beginning to grow thin. She handed him her shaky left hand that he graciously took for a light kiss. Olivia was born Hun that day._

"Olivia was full of resources… She was cruel and unafraid. What a strange girl!"

"Her father sent her to destroy the Huns by taking the head of its wolf. She embraced their culture and became a traitor instead."

"The way you told this story I'm not really sure she was wrong to do so? How can a father sent his child into this cruel and ruthless world? They know no mercy. Did he really buy her loyalty? Could he really trust her?"

"You have to keep in mind, Tiberius, that loyalty has many faces."

"What happened to that prince?"

"The sun is up."

He turned his head.

"But this is not the end of the story…Obviously… The Prince seems to like her. I heard about him. He took the Head of Claudius Maximus in Germany. He was an extremely competent leader and an incredible warrior. His death was rumored to have send Attila on a path of destruction. So, what happened when Olivia married the King? "

"You're so fond of gossip. It's hilarious."

"You have a way to tell story. I find it dangerously addictive, my love. "

"Very well… Rumored that Attila was a god was not exaggerated. Like a God, he was very fond of playing mischiefs to his entourage… Omniscient, in his own way, he ruled with his head more than with his heart. Though, he made exceptions. Keda was such exception. He was the son of his fourth wife, a Macedonian Priestess of the ancient cult, he found rolling on the shore of the Black Sea. She was pretty enough but what really caught his gaze were her golden eyes… She was said to have a heart just as golden. She reminded him of his first wife. He was deeply in love with her. She was deeply attached to him and gave him a son and her girl: Keda and … I think the girl…was… Hum… Let me think! Well, Kudjila, the beautiful Hun princess! The people loved the mother as she always made sure the clan never lack of food despite the numerous campaigns of her husband. She died from a mysterious ailment when her children were still young. But it was said that Attila raised Keda and his sister with care and love allowing the young prince and his sister to stay in the royal chamber, a rare privilege he'd bestowed on none of his other children. It was only fitting that the son he loved the most… would be the one to disappoint him."

_"Attila, they always pay their tribute. The romans are loyal to us. As loyal as they can be with whom they considered inferior." Onegesius said between two sips of his wine. "What was the name of your last gift from them? It was Keda who brought the child back from Rhaetia?"_

_Attila glanced in his direction, mirth in his eyes. He raised his mug of wine to his lips and swallowed the content in one sip. The crowd of men roared with laughter. _

_"I love these roman traditions. How they can sell their own daughters to achieve their purposes! We should probably take it as an example." Rugha commented seriously thinking about the prospects. He had numerous sisters and they would serve the clan well, especially the beautiful Kudjila. Attila rolled his eyes to the heavens comically. The men broke out into laughter. Only one stayed silent, it was Keda. The prince had retired against the wall next to Attila's throne, carving woods with his knife. Attila studied his strange demeanor curiously. Since he came back with the girl, Keda had been more withdrawn and quiet than usual. He pondered what had happened to provoke such a change within his boy._

_"Honestly, father, I don't think we could take on the entire roman army." Warwulf said. Unlike what his name could make people presumed Warwulf was not a warlike wolf. He was a burly man, a good-enough fighter but unfortunately he was also terribly coward. The fifth son sat next to Rugha, born a year later. Ellack, the first, sat on Attila's left. Diggizick, the second, sat next to his brother. Ernak the third was sickly so he never attended the council. The fourth died in battle. Seven and Eight died young from fever. _

_Attila sighed. He stared at Keda. What happened to his favorite wolf?_

_"We should entertain our alliances instead of breaking them. The Romans acknowledged your kingship years ago. They offered you one of their princesses as a gage of their consideration and loyalty." Onegesius intervened._

_Onegesius was half roman raised in the capital. It made him partially biased but not disloyal. They met when Attila was a hostage there. Attila had a certain amount of trust in his judgment. That is why he said nothing. He always took every opinion in consideration before making his own decisions...Decisions which more often than not were already made long before the council._

_"We must be prepared for a war. The romans are not reliable. They blindfold our eyes with their shining gifts. They buy themselves time. They are searching for a way to evict us safely. We should attack them first." Chen-zicgk said with all the seriousness his sharp voice and his expressionless face could convey._

_Inwardly, Attila agreed completely with Chen-zicgk on that point but guard himself from saying anything. It was a good way to entertain his men's imaginations. A Hun's perception is reality for him. If they thought that they were helping him rule his country, he would let them. If they thought what they say would influenced him in one way or another it was only an encouraging sign of the interest they take in their king. Allowing them to think he couldn't make a decision without them was a wise manner of preventing any political attacks. Never show your true strength when your enemy had still to show himself in broad daylight. He had told them years ago at the beginning of his reign, every Hun is responsible for shaping his life circumstances and experiences into success. No other Hun, and certainly no Roman, can do for a Hun what he neglects to do for himself. And the Great Council was certainly a good exercise to put that statement into practice._

_"Yes, we should ride over them and rid the earth of these bastards!" Diggizzikh shouted vehemently and he was echoed by a few men. He was still inebriated from last night's celebration. _

_Digg was a great warrior but Attila would be damned if he ever took his voice in consideration. Great warrior is not enough to make a great king ! Fortunately, the king himself knew that._

_"They are our main source of sustainment that would be unwise to attack them now." Rugha said again. At last, he was hoping to stir a positive reaction out of Attila. But his father's gaze remained trained on the favorite. He cursed mentally when Attila made no sign that he had actually listen to him._

_"Rugha, you always reason in term of money!" Munkcheng pointed out, slightly annoyed._

_Munkcheng was the smallest Hun chieftains that walked this earth and one of the oldest too. He was three feet tall perhaps, with little limbs that could still raise a sword like no one. His deep-seated grey eyes reminded people of his lineage with the khan's family. He was a cousin to Attila's father. His perfectly white hair that reached his back, his well- grown beard, and his wrinkled face were the unneeded proof of his old age. _

_"Well, yes, money could buy us this world!" Rugha retorted with certainty and his usual arrogance._

_"I will pray that the gods had not heard you, young fool !" Munkcheng retorted back sternly._

_"You will learn with time that money can't buy every victory, young one!" Daena, the Sarmatian added, agreeing with Munkcheng. It was a general fact among the court that Rugha's beliefs and strategy often could be summed up by the sentence "who do we have to pay?"_

_"Rugha will never learn. He is too obstinate for that. " Stated old Palomides, the Scythian._

_Rugha glared in the direction of the sarmatian and the scythian. He hated being patronized by them. These men were forgetting their places. Attila was the King and it was his father, they were foreigner, just good enough to follow._

_"We could buy a few of these roman provinces with the money their emperor gave us! Their leaders are easily corruptible... If we…" He suggested again raising a new debate among the crowd. The opinions were quite divided on the subject._

_"Rugha, it is not one small province we need!" Keda said at last. _

_Rugha stared at his younger brother angrily. How dare he interrupt? _

_Nonetheless, Keda's intervention had plunged the horde in silence. All eyes turned in his direction, waiting for him to elaborate on the subject. _

_"Again, you talk without a care, little brother." Rugha said. _

_"And you talk as if you have any understanding of what the King wants." _

_Rugha's lips twitched in an ugly grin. _

_"You… you do ?"_

_Attila said nothing as he watched them battle for his affection. _

_"Explain yourself, son!" Daena obliged and they all nodded in encouragement._

_Tawny eyes gazed over the horde and settled on Rugha coldly. _

_"Who said we wanted one small province when we could have much more? I believe the question is not what the Romans want from us? It is what we actually want for ourselves that should matter to us, Huns."_

_Behind him, Attila grinned more than pleased with his son's logic, the true logic of her leader. _

_"...If all we want for ourselves is to live among riches for the rest of our time on this earth, I would say conserving the roman as allies should be our next course of action. They are successful traders and amazing builders. Though, we should be prepared that they turn on us sooner or later, because the romans are well-known for their greed over treasures. On the other hand, if what we want is for the Huns to be remembered among history...If we want fame and glory for our people...If we want to gain the respect of the other nations...Buying some ephemeral peace with the Romans will never accomplished that. It would only delay the inevitable confrontation. I believed we are Huns not Romans. Why should we use their methods, Rugha?" _

_Rugha swallowed hard when Attila nodded. _

_"Onegesius said one good thing. In their eyes, we're still uncivilized barbarians. They believe us pagan because we don't share the same perception of their god. They believe us weak and unorganized. We should take advantage of that!"_

_"Keda, their gifts are only proof..." began Onegesius again._

_"Their gifts don't prove anything! They are..." Keda cut him out sharply before he was himself interrupted._

_"Poisoned."_

_A feminine voice with a strong foreign accent finished for him. The gathering of men gasped at the interruption and they all turn to see the woman who dared voice her opinion. She stepped forward in the room. _

_She bowed in front of the King and Attila lifted an eyebrow questioningly. The roman has even more courage that he had previously given her credit for. He did not spend much time with her since her arrival as two days ago one of his concubine delivered his twin sons Bleda and Batur in due time for his festival and he was busy celebrating the good news with his fifth wife who believed herself pregnant. So in truth, he'd barely had time to spare the girl a glance. He noticed she was really young, younger than even Rugha, maybe younger than Kublan... He cursed the Romans because he did not like little girls. They were inexperienced, whiny, and capricious. _

_But as he studied her closely, he noticed that she was surrounded by this strange dark aura that made her appear much more grown than she was. Indeed, it was not that she was young. No, she had a strong mind of her own. He could see that. No, it was the undecipherable darkness in her green eyes that draw his attention. It was what unsettled him. _

_"Lady Olivia, you should go find the other women, we are working here." Someone told her._

_But she did not spare the man a glance and stepped toward the throne. She paused to face Keda, their eyes meeting finally. _

_The young prince swallowed the lump in his throat and averted his eyes, turning toward his father. A strange shadow passed over his feature and the light in his eyes went out. Attila took it for what it really was. Guilt. Attila frowned. He easily figured out what happened. Keda bedded the girl even though he knew she was not for him. The smile that appeared on Attila's face was bitter-sweet. He saw the connection the two shared and the emotions they wanted to wouldn't have been King without some keen sense of observation. _

_What pained him though was that his youngest lied to him. He could have understood, because beyond doubt, the princess was attractive both in spirit and in body. Every man would have a hard time resisting her charm. Even if it was also true that he didn't like to share what was rightfully his, for Keda, his father would have made an exception. Because Keda was so very much like him! He should have known better! Attila always makes an exception for him. But now that his feelings were openly displayed before the King's eyes, Attila was more inclined in giving him the next lessons he needed so that he could pretend to the crown. The king would suffer long for mediocre but loyal Huns but will not suffer the competent but disloyal one. He should pay his deceitfulness a high price. Even if this price is to have his heart crushed in pieces at the hand of a woman such as this Olivia._

_It was evident that she was hungry for power. Olivia stared at him with regal and Attila thought she was born to be queen. She was a cute little flower indeed? _

_"A poison gift, Olivia of Rome…" He said amiably. "Dear, I could never picture you as such."_

_She smiled back. Keda looked at the floor intently. _

_"The sweetest poison always comes in the most inconspicuous present, My King."_

_"Actually, it is why I can't believe it." Attila countered back. "You are far from ordinary."_

_She stride toward the throne and leaned over him. The room gasped from stupor at her boldness but she seems to not care._

_"Believe me when I say I am not to be trusted, your Majesty." She said with a languid voice._

_"Even snake can be tame...Princess Olivia."_

_"That is where you're wrong, my lord." She whispered. _

_Keda and his father shared a meaningful look. She was so very tempting. What should he do with her? Break her cute little neck. Take out her pulsing beating heart and offered it to Keda. Take her just in front of the crowd like a whore. Images of bloodshed and torture reflected in the slit of his murky grey eyes, Attila raised an eyebrow and she continued on the same quiet tone. _

_"But that will do for another story. Majesty, the Romans sent me to kill you!" _

_She said loudly and the agitation returned full force in the room. Keda looked astounded. The chieftains stood suddenly and some of the men began to walk in her direction. But Attila stopped them with a wave of his hands. He motioned Olivia to continue._

_"Since childhood, I developed the skill of preparing poison decoctions. My father encouraged me to do so and took advantage of my skills to further his ambitions. If he sent me here, it is only knowing, I will help the Fates and take care of you... for them."_

_"Treacherous whore! I just knew..."_

_Keda got up and unsheathed his sword, knowing he had made her promise. But before he could strike her, Attila put her hand on the shoulder of his son and smiled. It was even better. The story was getting way more interesting by the second. The King silenced his men and encouraged her again to continue. He was more and more convinced that the girl had a purpose here... A purpose in his favor..._

_" My father, Solitius, was awarded the lordship of the provinces of Rhaetia and Germany controlled by the roman legions because of his sacrifice." She paused as if her mind was caught in memories. "He told me that I should strike you hard when your lower your guard. He told me that he will send some spies to help me escape. He promised my stay here should not be long. I knew he was lying."_

_Attila's first reaction was to think that she was the best actress he had ever seen since his days in Rome, then as she continue a rant, he began to discern sparks of truth in her discourse._

_"Are you really that skilled with poisons?" He said with the most natural voice, a smirk on his face._

_Her smile widened and her hand disappeared in her robe. She hesitated looking at Keda than she turned. She leaned over the first person that suit her purpose. It happened to be Kublan, the twelth son of Attila. She rubbed his face like a mother would her child. The prince grinned and then stood up to prove he was still alive and healthy. There was murmurs and snort in the crowd. And then without warning, Olivia kissed him, her lips sealed. Keda blinked, his father shifted position on his seat, the crowd grew quiet again, and Kublan paled considerably under her ministrations. When she released him, he staggered clumsily in the center of the room, gasping for air, his cheeks turning a violent blue color as he collapsed on the ground, his breathing raged and forceful. Attila rose from his seat and in two strides, he was over his son._

_"Help him," he ordered._

_"You ask me for a demonstration! A demonstration is not complete until the final act."_

_She said coldly._

_"I did see, Olivia." Attila commanded with an anxious voice. "But now help him. I can't afford to lose a son because of a crazy deviant witch."_

_She tilted her head, her eyes defiant and challenging. Attila faced her just ready to choke the life out of her. Keda got up from his seat and the entire crowd began threatening her in more than one dialect. But she still didn't move, she crossed her arms on her chest and waited._

_"What do you want from me?" Attila finally asked forcefully, the emotion caught in his voice. He almost growled the words out. The king of the Huns was ready to yield in front of a woman to save one of his numerous sons' lives. "Call Lupa!" He yelled to no one in particular, referring to the royal healer._

_Kublan was now marching on the thin bridge overhanging the river of Death. And the nineteen years old searched desperately his father's hand for comfort. Olivia crouched, freeing in the same motion her wild wavy hair. She opened the sticks in her hand, spreading a reddish powder in her palms. She dabbed her fingers and smeared a good quantity on Kublan's lips._

_"Lick it" she said to the young boy. _

_"I need water!" she said to Attila. _

_He scanned the crowd with incredulous eyes. _

_"You did not hear her! Do as she said!"_

_Digg sent his skin of water and Keda helped Kublan drink its content, his hand supporting his brother's head. Soon enough, Kublan wasn't breathing as forcefully as before._

_"You should rest! The after effects will pass faster if you sleep on it." _

_Olivia told Kublan. Attila nodded and two men carried Kublan out of the room. A resounding slap crushed her face and Olivia jerked away. She looked at Attila as he wiped the blood staining his knuckles on some cloth. He sighed and his features relaxed. She swallowed the taste of her own blood with a grunt. Keda glared in her direction, unaffected. She was such a manipulative wench._

_"Next time you try something like that, little girl, I kill you! "_

_"He was not in any danger of dying." She pointed out. And when Attila glared at her in return, she defended herself. "I may be wild, but I am not careless. I want to stay alive. Like I was telling you, the Romans planned your death. My lord, you asked me what I wanted from you?"_

_ Again, Attila rolled his eyes, suddenly exhausted. Women were all the same in all cultures. What is it she really wanted? Freedom? Money? However he was not prepared for what followed._

_She shook her head, gathering courage._

_"I want my father to regret every of his actions toward me. I want him to watch everything he cherished burn to the ground and its dust being carried away by a strong eastern wind. I want him to look into my eyes when he cowered pathetically for his life. I want his head on a pretty stick to decorate my room and his skin as a rug to warm my feet. I want the emperor shaking from head to toe as he watch his empire crumble, about to be consumed by a lone Wolf with the strongest fangs. I want them to pay for their foolish arrogance. I want them to pay for their treason. And I want you, Attila, King of the Huns, to be my champion!"_

_His eyes widened in delight as he listened intently to her rants. She looked gorgeous in her white almost transparent dress describing with conviction the carnage she had in mind. He caught the fascination in his favorite's eyes. She was truly magnificent, well-deserving of a Hun Prince. He decided he would kill two birds at once. He would punish his son's treason... and expand his kingdom. _

_"You have a plan, Young Lady?" _

_He asked even though a plan already formed in his mind._

_"My father sent me as a gift to you. But never did he give you the dowry that should accompany any respectable alliances? For a king as powerful as you, it is a rare offence."_

_"I should marry you..." Attila finished her thought for her._

_"But Attila..." Onegesius intervened but they both ignored him as if they were the only two people in the world. _

_"And rightfully the province of Rhaetia should be mine. As should all the western provinces as indemnities for the offence against my person." Attila said and she nodded with a delighted smirk._

_"They are waiting to be claimed by you! Solitius has no right on them. I know all about my father's strategy… The number of his man, the name of his allies, his weaknesses… I would tell you everything you need to know in order to win this war and crush him." She purred with a smile. _

_She sent a sharp look to Keda who avoided her by all costs. Inside of her, she was boiling, warped in torment. She wanted him to understand that she needed to do this in order to survive. She did not wish for a life of slavery. She did not wish to die caught accidentally in the fire. She was way too smart to die like this. Gambling on Attila… Teasing an untamed monster… This was the only way… No, it was the best way._

_ Attila and Keda shared a look. To a Hun, tenacity was everything. That is why to a Hun a lesson is best learned the hard way. Keda had never been fond of lectures even as a kid. Born a natural leader, he had a tendency to make his own rules. It was a quality that his father welcomed and nursed in his son from an early age. But there were times where he needed to crush his son's fierce spirit. Disloyalty and cowardice were the worse sins. _

_His eyes lowered down to the small witch. Olivia. She was beautiful and dangerous. Her selfishness knew no bounds. Honor, compassion and mercy were lost value to her. She wanted to live. The burning desire to live was strongly engraved in her emerald eyes. Somehow, she managed to impress him. She was truly a goddess. The goddess of destruction. She shattered the balance he had with his heir so easily. He could sense rebellion in his son. But he had every piece of the puzzle in his hands. These two children were great at the game of war. But truly, he was a master in the art of subjugation. _

_Only Keda was caught unaware in their games. At that moment, he only knew anger. How ironic, he had never felt such feelings before! But, now, he was simply seething with rage, anger at being deceived, anger for lowering his guard, anger for his own illogical actions, and anger for falling for her. How come he allowed his affection for a simple woman to cause a rift between him and the King? Between him and his beloved father…_

_"Lady Olivia I believe you have raised yourself into the scale of the Hun's society. Decisive to a Hun's success in life is a clear understanding of what the King wants. You have understood that very well. Lady Olivia, welcome among your people!" He kissed her hand gallantly and the crowd acclaimed their new queen. Keda swallowed hard._

"She managed it. She blended among them."

"Yeah, she did."

"No wonder, her character is so intriguing."

Salva said nothing. Modestly, she dressed.

"You did not tell me this story without a motive."

She shrugged.

"Know you, it has to have a deeper meaning."

" They are legends. I'm just saying people were scared of them… Their dynasty, their lineage, their bloodline… It means something. "

"What do you mean, love?"

"You're fighting a devil!"

"Merlin?"

"They are scared of him. They made up stories so that they don't have to enter the woods. We're losing ground in this war."

"I see… You believe I should forgive the Hun and let him live because are iconic character."

She smiled.

"His mother was an estranged cousin to the Emperor; you could call out for clemency. Would it be so strange? "

"My duty is to my men, woman. Roman Citizen always comes first."

It was her turn to patronize him.

"Tiberius, we are very far from Rome. Those silly men deserved to die. They were deserters and trouble-makers. Seeing their level of stupidity, Death was the least of their problem. But what do you think will happen in a few years? Caesar doesn't even hold Gaul anymore. My father, great magistrate of Gaul, was forced back to Rome a few months ago. And nothing was waiting for him over there. What happened when they no longer need you here? When they don't need this land anymore?

She had a point. He got up and dressed. The morning was cold. Snow was faintly falling in their courtyard.

"Let me worry about that, will you?"

"I won't."

"Salva!"

"I said I won't. You are not to worry about this family alone. They are scared of Merlin. But what if you had a weapon of your own… if you had your own monster… What if people feared you instead?"

"You want me to use the boy?"

"He is a killer, a machine, born in the most bloodthirsty dynasty that ever existed… He was raised among wolves… He doesn't care for his own life. He is perfect."

"He is uncontrollable."

"He seems that Arthur and his knights had developed a liking to him. He seems well-behaved in their company. It was the first incident since he arrived."

"Salva, you are well-informed and misinformed all at the same time."

"Is there a compliment hidden somewhere?"

"Yes. Let me think about the rest. I will make the suitable arrangements for our family when the time will come."

"Tiberius, my love, you are not alone. You don't have to think about everything."

He lifted his head barely when she held him against her chest.

"You're a bit like Olivia, meddlesome and troublesome. The story did not end well for her. Do you remember?"

"I am nothing like her. Her own survival was the most important to her. My love and my pride's survival is what come first. I need to know that we will be safe. Things are changing. I sense darker times. Frankly, I am terrified."

Tiberius leaned on his petite wife with a heavy sigh.

" Dead, Tanjin, Son of Attila, is nothing to you. Alive, he could be quite an asset. All you have to do is to listen to me. When Arthur comes, say that you won't help. It's important to have the trial to restore the trust of your own men. They have to know you will defend them."

Tiberius frowned.

"I will defend them with all I have of course! But how do you know Arthur will come?"

"He is my friend as much as he is yours. He is too much of an honorable man. He will try to save the life of his protégé. You would do the same."

"What should I do then? It is not even my decision anymore. "

"Arthur will be so desperate. He will not know that. He will not be listening."

"You want me to trick a friend."

"It is not much frankly. It wouldn't be too much to gather favors."

"Even if I do as you suggest, Praetor Curtius will arrive, a jury will be formed. I don't think he will spare the Hun no matter what I say."

"Praetor Curtius is a nice reasonable old man who likes his wine a lot. I will take care of him. You are the one who will have to deal with Arthur."

Tiberius pulled her toward him, kissing the nape of her neck.

"Well… I don't believe that everything will go as smoothly as you say. But I trust you to have the best intentions."

"I want us to win this war. What better intentions could there be? Then, I want us to live happily ever after on these lands, watching our children grow into men, having their own children. I want to die old in the strong arms of my husband."

Someone knocked on their door.

"Who is it?"

"It's Oras, master?"

"Come in."

The servant appeared in the threshold.

"Forgive me, my lord, for the early interruption. Artorius Castus, Commander of the Samartian knights, is requesting an audience with you. He is waiting in the Aula. "

Tiberius turned to his tiny wife. She chuckled slightly.

"No."

"What?"

"If you ask, I am never tired of being right. One of the small pleasures of being a woman…"

He laughed out loud.

* * *

[1] Nîmes

Is Tanjin the son of Attila or the son of Keda?

This is still quite a mystery, right?

The story of Olivia and Keda is six years old at the very least. It had always been the core of Un royaume au-dessus des nuages. It's one of the first thing I've written. I found the prints in a drawer recently. I scanned it and try to proofread it. I really wanted to publish this part. Of course, it is something that Tanjin doesn't know. His perception ot the events are quite different. First, he was not even born. Second his entire existence is based on the fact that he is without a doubt Attila's son. He is not ready to go there yet. But I wanted to stray a little bit from his perception to someone else's because I like the fact that Attila knows the truth. And I wanted you to know that everything is not quite as they seem. I think it's important to not entirely trust tanjin's perception for various reason, one them being that he is a drug addict. ^_^

However, it gives Attila more power in this story. He was that charismatic powerful king with almost preternatural qualitites. Being perceptive is a true power. He can read people very well especially his kin. It's so cruel the way he observed them coldly and teach them the way of life without truly communicating with them. But to be king is somewhat lonely. It doesn't mean he doesn't love his family. Indeed this chapter proves how much he loves them, how much he loves Keda. Countless times, Keda had been said to be the favourite. I like him in the role of the revered brother, the saviour of his people, the heroic Hun warrior. The truth is Keda had his flaws. He was young, cold, manipulative, sometimes cruel. He loved his father very much but it was hard sometimes to be such a precocious child. To be the one. As for Olivia, she is not as rotten as Miggy depicted in the story. She is just a young girl who struggle to survive in a world where there is no room for the weak. So yes, she is a scheming whore. She put herself between father and son with no qualms whatsoever. She had flaws. But she is not a bad person. I believe in those times it was very difficult to make the right decisions. To stay virtuous... None of the characters are... (Arthur, Take that ) They all want to live so badly. Only Rugha is rotten to the core. Selling his own sisters ! What a creep!

Next chapter will be The Trial of a Hun. It's written and saved. I'm just waiting for your reactions on this chapter. I need support. So if you read, review, please!


	15. The trial of a Hun

No reviews. Does that mean that nobody is reading this? It doesn't matter though! It almost sound like the last chapter. ^_^

Maybe it is. Is it the end for the Hun?

-15 -

The Trial of A Hun

Light.

Reality came crashing down before Tanjin. All he could see was light. Ethereal… Warm… Light… A square of blue sky… Smoky clouds... White snowflakes slowly falling outside… How come the sky was so blue on a snowy day?

His fingers grazed the rough and cold concrete. A blur of sensations coursed through his skin. A woman was singing outside.

Laced with sorrow the voice surrounded him.

A song without words or lyrics...

A song without a beginning or an end…

It was odd the way it reminded him of his sister Kudjila. She was not the most talented singer. She cried easily though. Attila used to say that her wails could reach the Heavens.

Tanjin inhaled sharply as he sought deep inside for the meaning. Two years… His mind hadn't been this clear and this free for two years. He got up and realized his hand was still imprisoned in Amery's. His face was bathed in absolute white and translucent clarity.

He smiled.

Peace. Was it peace? Somehow did he manage to find peace in the process of destroying himself? No, of course not. He could feel it deep down. Underneath it all, he was still hurt. The crudity of his feelings was slashing his insides out. The hurt was still there, he was still burned, wounded by their absences. Barely under the surface, there was raw blood and torn flesh. That harmony he felt was something else altogether. Resignation, it was more like it. It was a shame for resignation was unbecoming of a Hun Prince. But a part of him, a very exhausted part, was yielding and approving his fate.

Tanjin?

Feeling him move, Amery woke up startled. Letting go of her hand, he took a few steps in the empty cell. He spread his arms in a prayer. _May they welcome him among them again. His people. Today, he was about to join them. _

Tanjin? Her voice was alarmed.

Tanjin turned toward her. She was caught breathless at the sight of him in this small cell. Green eyes shimmered slightly as he surveyed his surroundings with detachment.

- I can see light.

- You… can…see…light?

Her voice was barely above a whisper.

- I am innocent. I remember now.

He lowered his gaze to the floor.

- I did not kill those men. I did not even wish their deaths.

- You… did… You did not. You will tell them? You…will…

Tanjin only smiled faintly in answer.

- You won't say anything. She concluded bitterly.

- This is my will.

- Tanjin…

He stood before her so fast she had yet to utter another word. She had yet to finish her sentence. He closed the distance between them so quickly and she could barely breathe under his gaze. There was a sense of gravity in his eyes, and also a level of lucidity that had not been present the night before. They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. The tears blurring her visions refused to fall properly. Her heart was beating furiously. It was clear to her too. She… could not lose him.

- Tanjin? Don't abandon me! I beg you!

She wiped her tears with shaky hands. She watched as he stood there with no trace of being restless. He was calm. She had never seen him so tranquil. Most of the time, he was just like water, continuously moving, regularly, relentlessly. The ripples troubled the surface. Now, he was still water in front of her.

- Everything will be fine.

- Please…Tell them… If I tell them, they would never believe the words of her whore. I beg you to reconsider. You have to live.

She was screaming now. Her voice was reaching that level of desperation, between shrieks and the choking of her own tears.

- I am not troubled. You will live for both. You are that strong, Amery.

This was the words of an egotistical brat. She muffled a scream. She did not want to be strong that is. She wanted his protection. She wanted him. She wanted one person to be strong for her. Why would he not lend her some strength? He was being so selfish.

Tanjin took a deep breath.

The grounds started to shake faintly. The iron doors scraped the ground. Roman soldiers started crawling down the hallways. Ten aligned in front of his cell and Amery was pushed away. One soldier approached his cage.

- I am Vasper Aurelius. The orders are to bring you, Tanjin of Hungary, to the courtyard where your trial for the murder of three roman soldiers will be held. Step away from the bars and kneel. You will be bound before you face the jury.

Tanjin shrugged.

Never.

Giving them his back, he stared at a raven on the edge of the tiny hole-in-the-wall.

- You will not comply obediently?

- I will never kneel before anyone, especially before the likes of you. My knees will only touch the ground when I am dead, my soul and spirit gone and crushed. That is the way of a Hun. My only request.

- I don't care for your lore. You have no right to make requests.

- I don't mind killing one more roman before my trial. So go ahead and make me…

He taunted with a feral grin.

- Is that a threat, you dog? Retorted the roman. You think you are so special as to order us around! You are a criminal!

Tanjin's smile grew wide in answer.

- Vasper, you heard the commander.

Another soldier intervened.

- Yes, we should not add a bruise to his tanned skin. This is a shame. He deserved to be taught a lesson. He doesn't deserve trial. The animal deserved a quick and messy death. He killed one of us.

- Don't you dare touch him, you fool!

Amery shouted defiantly. For this, she was held back, restrained and escorted outside. She tripped in a puddle of muddy snow. One hand extended immediately to lift her. A sense of relief washed over her when she realized it belonged to Galahad. But Galahad was not the only one there. Every knights of Arthur's round table were waiting in front of the jailhouse. Galahad held Amery's hand tight. Blaez, who was in the mood to burn a fort, stood arms crossed next to his cousin. Percival had trouble keeping Blaez's temper in check. Miraculously, he managed to dissuade Blaez to burn the jailhouse to help a certain Hun escape. Bors and Braden were accompanied by their respective lover. Sylena and Vanora were singing that melancholic song Tanjin heard from the confines of his cell. Duncan mounted Scourge in full battle armor. Scourge looked anxious. Tristan was staring at the sky where his hawk was racing a raven in circle. Gawain and Aggravain were perched on the stairs, leaning on each other.

Only their commander was nowhere to be found.

Lancelot grabbed the first thing he found which happened to be an old fork. He pointed it at the soldier who mishandled Amery, cornering him against a wall.

- Tell your fellow countrymen that the Samartian Knights are here and that the Prince Hun better not be bloody when he comes out if they want to continue enjoy life with all their limbs attached.

One hour later, the streets swamped with people. They were all chattering amongst themselves, laughing and shouting. The procession of men and women draped in warm clothes against the winter entered the courtyard of the garrison, white with snow. Jols was still busy setting the tables and the chairs for the Praetor and his people. A few soldiers brought benches and disposed them around the court.

- Where is Arthur? Asked Blaez vehemently. They are about to bring him out!

He berated himself for appearing too concerned. In fact, Blaez was extremely worried. He reasoned that it was because without Tanjin their group would be short of one man. Hell, he denied having any kind of affection for the monster. Tanjin was still the smelly son of a Demon lord. He hated that boy with every fiber of his being. Well, he did not have to explain himself. Tanjin had to stay alive. So that one day, when Blaez would get his discharge, he'd get the opportunity to kill him himself. Percival tapped his shoulder gently. It stopped the daydream. The blonde huffed_. What were they waiting for?_ Tristan shrugged indifferently. Lancelot's eyes glowered with unrestrained anger. This was pure madness. How convenient that Arthur chose to not witness it. He spat on the ground defiantly.

In the courtyard, under the applause of the crowd, Tiberius escorted his young wife to their seats. Dressed in a fitted burgundy dress, Salvia was wrapped in furs. Seven people picked among the crowd were randomly appointed to the task of jurors.

Praetor Curtius, the highest magistrate of Britain, was an old man in his seventies. His wrinkled face folded upward with a benign smile as he greeted the people of Hadrien's wall. Salvia rose again and served the old man another round of warm red wine. He smiled to her fondly, taking both her hands and kissing them chastely. Tiberius smiled. Curtius was already well on the road to get intoxicated.

Raising his hands to silence the crowd, Curtius announced quietly.

"It is time. Bring the prisoner."

Arthur crossed the courtyard in a few strides. Jols gave him a pat on his shoulder. He sat next to Tiberius.

"Bring him out!" A soldier bellowed.

The knights turned their heads toward the doors. Tension arose when it opened slightly. The hinges hissed on a whim. Adopting a steady and coordinated rhythm, the soldiers started marching, their spears hitting the ground every two steps.

His brow furrowed in concentration. Gawain sighed. That was it. They were bringing him out. He had to believe that everything will be fine. He could not abandon his brother. He had to live. Tanjin will live too. They will not condemn him like that. Right? Oh bloody hell! What has he done_? _

A dozen of soldier passed in front of them before they could see the Hun prince. He emerged from the dark belly of the prison at last, his hands bound, closely surrounded by armed soldiers. His skin was much darker than when they last saw him. Grimy and filthy, the Hun managed to walk with a regal air, his usual smirk in place. His hair, a deep shade of mahogany, was free to whirl with the wind.

His green eyes still held the same mystery, a swirling darkness that only the devil would claim.

"Stay in line!"

Not caring for the warning, Lancelot grabbed Tanjin to slow him down. The doll of his sister, he slipped it inside Tanjin's front clothes. He firmly grabbed his girlish face. Green eyes met black… Lancelot smiled.

- You will make us proud today, will you?

It was not a question that Tanjin had to answer. In fact, he was too much at a loss for words to answer.

- You will be a Hun. Show them.

He shook his head with that wicked smile that they all grew accustomed too. Tristan continued to look at the sky. The truth he wanted to seal it. He was that selfish. Blaez grumbled something like he will lose the meager respect he had for the Hun if he ever died at the hands of the romans. Gawain embraced the Hun awkwardly.

- I will not forget, Tanjin. The blonde whispered in his ears. You are my brother.

Tanjin frowned. When he understood that it was Gawain's way of saying "Thank you", he nodded slowly.

Danis, hidden behind Percival, wished him luck. Weeping without pause, Melan, immediately took Gawain's place. Tanjin lifted his eyes to the sky impatiently. It was somewhat pitiful. It was not like they'd never see each other again… Well, it was but… He rolled his eyes. His thoughts were all over the place again. The whole gesture made Duncan sneer as he pulled Melan away from Tanjin.

- Say you're sorry even if you don't mean it… Especially if you don't mean it…Tanjin, you will not leave your horse without a master, right?

- Like I care for this scrawny pony!

As if he heard, Scourge neighed and took a step back. They all chuckled at that, Bors and Braden were the loudest.

- Step back everyone. Yelled Vasper.

Galahad swallowed hard and let go of Amery's hand. Her eyes grew wide at this. She barely wasted a moment searching the anger in his face before she ran to Tanjin. Pushing Lancelot aside, she grabbed the prisoner and kissed him fiercely, her mouth wet with tears and saliva. Taken by surprise, the Hun barely stood his ground. She took even the Roman soldiers by surprise. Duncan lost his smile. Tristan's eyes spread with silent stupefaction. Lancelot whistled appreciatively.

Tanjin did not kiss back. He really didn't have too. Amery's kiss had so much strength and passion into it. It withstood any rebuttal. He did not love her. She knew he could not love. She did not care. After a lot of denials, she barely discovered that she could. It was sufficient to her. Indeed, the discovery that she could care so much, it was enough.

She did not want to be left alone. That was all that he understood. She was scared. He moaned against her. She stayed a nuisance till the end but somehow… Somehow, Tanjin couldn't find it in him to push her aside. As "dangerous", the situation may be for him. He could not let go of her as easily as he was about to let go of the rest. It was the same for the knights. His stomach clenched indignantly and he struggled for the need for air. If he wanted to join them, he had to sacrifice what he had…what he didn't realize he had. He closed his eyes. Before he knew it, Amery was pulled back and restrained by Lancelot. The older knight tried to comfort her as she cried. The soldiers started walking again. Sparing his last glance to Galahad in acknowledgment, Tanjin followed them to the courtyard.

A couple of hours later, a tall handsome man with closely cropped dark hair stood in the center of the courtyard. Antilius Capito, prosecutor for the court, was going nowhere in questioning Tanjin, Prince of the Huns, on his whereabouts before and after the murders. He was fighting air. This trial was a sham. The Hun Prince's answers were short, ambiguous, and downright insolent at times. Tanjin didn't as much as look disconnected as he looked bored by the whole process.

"Your honour? The convict does not cooperate fully. He is not committed to the procedure. His behavior is condescending to say the least. Does he mock our justice system? "

Arthur's fingers were crisped on the arms of his chair. He was a silent witness to this masquerade, for it was what it was. His discussion with Tiberius had given him few hope that everything will sort itself out naturally. So he had not spoken a word since the beginning of the trial. He could feel Lancelot's glare but frankly he was past the point of caring. Not exactly numb, he was focused.

Curtius swallowed another sip of wine. Salva got up to fill his almost empty cup. The white bearded men offered her a gentle smile. True, he was not the most vindictive of men. Though he held the law above all, he was not known to be spiteful or cruel to the defendants. Britain was probably lucky to have someone like him as a mediator. Age had rendered him somewhat even more lenient and tolerant. Wine helped keep his spirit in a good place. Tiberius noticed that everything was going just as Salvia as predicted. The only problem was the Hun. He was barely trying. If only the Hun showed some kind of remorse. If only he fought harder for his life, he might be spared. But he just stood there… As if he wanted to die…

- Very well ! Just so it is clear for everybody, Tanjin, son of Attila, you declined the need for someone to represent you. More importantly, you confessed being guilty of all charges brought by the prosecutor Antilius Capito. The Praetor said.

Tanjin nodded.

- You have a poor sense of defense, young man. I have to wonder if you actually understand what it is we are doing here. How old are you?

- I am a man by all accounts. Tanjin answered.

- That was not the heart of my question, Prince Hun. Retorted Curtius.

Feeling uncomfortable, Tanjin turned to the nearest support, his commander. Arthur closed his eyes. He wanted this thing to stop. He wanted it to end now without Tanjin losing the pride he held on so tightly.

- 15 years old. He finally said.

- You're this old? Well, your mother was born a Roman princess, but maybe you don't understand the language and subsequently are unable to grasp the complexity of such proceedings.

Tanjin tried to smile amiably. Instead, all he did was scowling even more.

- I am well-versed in Roman customs and the simplicity of its theatrics. Thank you for your understanding. But please, continue to proceed.

The Praetor chuckled good-naturedly.

- You have authority and a good deal of willpower, I see.

- I am of Attila's blood.

Tanjin simply stated.

- Well, indeed you are… Indeed you are… But do you really wish to die so much?"

Tanjin swallowed hard.

- I do not understand your question.

- I think you do.

- I killed those men and I do not feel an ounce of regret.

- That was not my question. Do you understand my question?

Tanjin nodded. He swallowed hard. He could not say the words. He was unable to say those words. He wanted to groan. How come he was incapable of saying it? Frustration brought forth more tears. Standing stiffly, biting on his lower lip, he refused to cry.

- I… don't… What do you want me to tell you? He retorted back, fidgeting.

He was back to being Tanjin.

Restless...

Anxious…

Immature…

Arthur clenched the armchair nervously. God help him!

- It is simple indeed. Are you or are you not capable of understanding the gravity of your situation?

Tanjin opened his mouth in shock. Whispers and murmurs rose among the crowd.

- I do understand. Came his weak reply.

Maybe he did not really… Keda used to say that Tanjin lacked a proper perspective. His brother believed him incapable of thinking his actions through. Thinking things through had never been Tanjin's forte. So maybe he didn't know the right from wrong. He didn't know what he was supposed to do in front of this court. Tanjin turned to the knights behind him. Why this sudden hesitation? Why the indecisiveness? What was he doing? He was about to die, right? He did not want to live, right? Did he not want to die? All of these questions, why did he not have a proper answer?

_Two answers for one question. How very common of you Tanjin!_

Blaez was shaking his face with disappointment. Duncan's eyes sent daggers in his direction. Tristan was crouched staring at the snow covered ground. Lancelot clenched his fists nervously. Melan was crying on Amery's shoulder. Galahad's face was unreadable. Gawain was bent like Tristan, but his hands were ostensibly shaking. Aggravain frowned.

_Dark locks swirled with the wind as Tanjin stood on the hill with his best friend for the last time. Brownish smelly locks partially covered his face. The scar he got from his first battle last year had fade into a bare scratch on his left eyebrows. His grin mirrored Tanjin as they stared at the fire camp below. Golden sparks churned in his coffee eyes as the fire flames reflected in them. Tanjin had never noticed how much Talika had grown this last summer. He was too busy missing Keda. The sun rose. Talika's smile broadened. His heart was a subtle and complex Persian puzzle. All the pieces were torn inside. Bleda and Batur were already gone as was the rest of the family. They went with Hubris's mother. The empire had been separated to satisfy the wolves. They were still fighting in Karaganda. Rugha appointed himself King. But Ellak wanted the Kingdom back. Today, it was their turn to be separated forever. Tanjin wanted to stretch this moment for eternity. Since he was born, he had not spent a day of his life without Talika, who was three years older than him, by his side. He could not imagine living without the smell of honey cake. _

_"It is time."_

_With the sunrise for background, they stared at each other. Tanjin's eyes gleamed with unshed tears. Talika shrugged._

_"Tanjin, we will see each other again. So stop theses girlish tears! They are unsightly! You look very much like Sogdian like this. It is not meant to be a compliment. "_

_Tanjin sniffed weakly. _

_"I don't think…"_

_"You never think, brother, it is supposed to be my job!" _

_When Tanjin did not smile back, Talika's face showed concern for the briefest moment. He was back to smiling the best he could._

_"You have to be strong, Tanjin. We are wolves. That is true that wolves travel in packs. But it is also true that they are sometimes lonely creatures. Do you understand?"_

_Tanjin shook his head. He understood none of this. Of course, he was way too young. He was the youngest. It was quite a lot to take in. Talika, himself, had barely enough time to devise a plan for the future. He didn't even have time to miss their father. He needed to protect his mother and his twin sister. He had to lead his people to safety. He was not a child anymore. They were not children playing around Leda's kitchen. _

_"I knew you wouldn't. You're the youngest after all." Talika smirked and sighed._

_"Talika, I wanna go with you! I don't wanna part here. It is too early…" Tanjin muttered._

_There was a hint of girlish angst in his voice. Talika winced slightly. He grabbed his little brother's face firmly. Brown eyes stared in the depths of emeralds irises. These bright green eyes who were staring at him stubbornly were the most beautiful things he had ever seen. He would miss them dearly. That was what Talika thought. That was not what he said. _

_"Tanjin, stop it. I mean it. Don't you dare ruin the memory of our Father! I forbid you. You protect your mother. You protect your life. You survive this… For us… Do you hear me? I will survive this. I will grow strong because I am a wolf. I am his wolf. I was born for this. I will come back here."_

_"But Rugha said that he will kill us if we ever come back… He killed Hubris and Soghdian…"_

_"Who cares for Rugha? He is not my king. This wicked and vile snake killed Keda and Attila too. He sold us to the Romans. He betrayed our blood. I won't let him get away with this and you won't let him either, Tanjin. I know that you are scared. But there is no need for that. This is our country. The land of Our Fathers. My land. Your land. We will rule together, Tanjin. So be ready. Don't disappoint me! Don't you dare disappoint me! Wherever you are, I will know if you disappoint me, alright? Don't you become weak ! I need you. So don't you become a girl yet!"_

_Tanjin's eyes snapped wide open in a girlish fashion. _

_"I would not…"_

_"You better not…"_

_"I am not a girl…"_

_Talika smiled softly. _

_"I know you are not. You are my brother. So I forbid you. You have to wait for me. I will become strong. I promise. We will find each other again. I love you brother. I love you more than Blood. I love you more than Life. I love you more than honey cake and wine. I just love you so much. So don't you become a girl on me…"_

_Tanjin nodded._

_"I won't."_

_"You become a man. Proud. Deadly. A True Hun in Spirit and Body. You become the master of your own Destiny."_

_Kissing his forehead in a finale gesture, Talika pulled away and ran toward his horse. Because, she was part Persian, Talika's mother and her followers took the road to the East hoping to find shelter there. Tanjin watched the silhouette of his best friend fade away. He did not know how long he stood there. _

_"I love you too." He finally said. _

_As if she had waited for him to say that, Olivia hugged him tightly. _

_"It is time to go, son. Now, it is just the two of us." _

- I do not wish to die. He muttered.

Arthur leaned slightly on his chair, thinking he just misheard.

- What did you say, Prince Hun?

- I do not wish to die.

Tanjin choked back tears. There was no way he was allowed to cry in public. He lowered his head. _Don't become a girl ! You stay a man! You wait for me!_ He heaved a sigh. It was alright. Everything was alright.

- I killed them for revenge because of what they did to my brothers in arms. But I do not wish to die for it. I do not wish to die.

Curtius nodded. Tiberius exchanged a few words with the prosecutor.

- Very well, is there someone in this assembly who wished to add something? The plaintiff is satisfied with the amount of remorse demonstrated by the defendant. He asked the court for its leniency.

Tiberius nodded. Arthur and him stared at each other. Curtius sighed.

- I guess there will be no need for the jurors to express themselves in the end. As I come to the conclusion of this trial, I have to say, I am fairly disappointed that so many laws have been broken here. Three men were deprived of the very breath of life… But three boys, far from their home, fighting for Rome, were tortured by those same men.

Lancelot frowned.

- I disapprove greatly of their conducts. We, people of Rome, should not forget why we are here. We should not forget that we are one people, unified behind the wall of Hadrien. Nothing will be as difficult and challenging as to learn to live together. Undeniably, this stands as another reason to disapprove even more the way the defendant chose to blindly exact his vengeance. I truly believe that the defendant leaves us with no choice here. I, hereby, declare that this court find, Tanjin, Son of Attila, guilty of all charges.

Agitation rose in the attendance.

- The sentence will be…

- I beg your pardon.

Arthur got up from his seat.

- Forgive my interruption, but your wise words, Praetor Curtius, gave me much to think about.

Curtius drank another mouthful of hot wine.

- Go ahead, Artorius Castus.

- You are truly right and you opened my eyes with your words of wisdom. We are but one people behind these walls and I am as guilty as my subordinates. It is true that I failed to guide and supervise him. I turned a blind eye on his actions; maybe because I was carrying the same vengeful desires as him.

- Artorius, do you measure your words?

- I do, your honor. I ask the court to consider me guilty of the charges of murder in place of Tanjin, son of Attila.

- You cannot… be serious! Arthur ! You can't do this! Tiberius yelled.

- Artorius, I ask you to consider again.

- He is not a free man. Actually, Tanjin, is my charge. I am truly responsible for every of his actions, including the fact that he simply breathes right now. I demand to be held accountable as this contract signed by Marcus Olympus at Epithelium a year ago allows me to.

Antilius Capito held out a hand. Arthur gave him the scrolls.

- Everything is as he says. Following the laws closely, he is allowed to represent the defendant at any stage of the process including the sentence.

- A Master willing to take on the punishment for his charges, this is unheard of.

- But the law is undiscriminating, Praetor. Such cases are provided for by the law.

- Your honor, you will not comply with his foolish request. As the plaintiff, I take back my accusations. Retorted Tiberius.

- Once the verdict had been pronounced there is no way to go back in time.

Salva's eyes were wide opened in astonishment. Tiberius paled considerably. He realized he had been fooled all along into thinking Arthur will not act on himself. Salva took his hands. He suddenly felt cold and sick.

- We are talking about Primus Pilus, Lucius Artorius Castus… You cannot lower to… He is…"

- That's enough, Captain Tiberius! Very well, Artorius. You will be held accountable for the actions of Tanjin, son of Attila, and as such, I declare you guilty of all charges."

The crowd screamed in protest.

- Wait, I am guilty too! Gawain shouted. In fact, I am the one! I did it! You cannot punish them because I did it. I'm sorry Aggravain. I should have talk sooner! But, I killed them. I was not thinking.

The blonde kneeled next to Arthur.

- I'm sorry, commander. It was my entire fault. If I knew…

Arthur did not have time to answer that Lancelot grumbled.

- It was my fault too. What an inspiring speech, your honor!

- People, what the hell are you doing? If we are one bloody happy family, I suppose it is my bloody fault too. And Dagonet and Braden, these ugly bastards, they did it too."

- That doesn't mean I like you, you freak!" Blaez turned to Tanjin menacingly. "I may be willing to go to hell with you but we are not buddies! Do you hear me? I was in on the murders ! Please punish me too!"

Bors tapped Tanjin on his shoulder. Tristan just silently stood next to the trio. Duncan pushed his way to stand there too. Every one of the knights, stood as one waiting for the sentence.

- Bloody hell, Tanjin, I'm willing to leave my bloody horse for you. I'm willing to die for you. He breathed.

Tanjin stared quizzically. What was happening?

- Are we really going to die? Tell me they will not kill us all! I don't really wanna die! Muttered Danis.

- Shut up! Of course, they will not kill us ! Who would fucking fight for them otherwise? Blaez spat with disdain.

- Well said boy! Bors approved.

- Don't listen to them, your honor. It's my sole responsibility. Don't mind them. They just want to help. But this is my decision.

Arthur stated.

- Hell, it's your decision, Arthur! Lancelot groaned. You took your sweet time to act…

- Now is really not the time, Lancelot!

- This is getting out of hands. Guards ! Someone do something! You do not have a right to… stand before us… Guards! I said move! Capito shouted.

- Stand down.

It was the Praetor's orders.

- Capito is right, Praetor Curtius. This is madness. Please let's end this. We all learned a valuable lesson, here. This… should go no further.

- You may call it justice too, Tiberius. It was what you wanted, right? I am delighted. What a beautiful demonstration of brotherhood and solidarity! C

Curtius sighed.

- Indiscriminately, you are all condemned three times 900 lashes. The sentence is applicable immediately.

- Thank you, your honor. Arthur breathed a sigh of relief.

- Did you just thank him? Did he just sentence us to be whipped like dogs? No, no, did you just thank him, Arthur? You must be kidding me! You did not just thank him for his great magnanimity. We are about to be flogged to death. Retorted Lancelot.

- Sentence applicable immediately. Repeated Capito.

Lancelot glared in his direction.

- What? What is happening? What did you do? Stuttered a certain Hun.

- Your master and your brothers in arms have decided to share your punishment with you. I have nothing against it. You are a very lucky fellow, Prince Hun. Start the preparations, Capito. I will witness.

- Lictors, get them ready! The sentence will be executed shortly.

Tanjin turned to Arthur.

- What did you do?

- Didn't I make a promise to you? Didn't we share blood to seal it? You will get your discharge in 14 years and then you will go home. All of you will go home. I will do everything in my power… sacrifice everything to ensure of this.

Arthur started taking his armor off. Tanjin froze. It sent a chill down his spine and it had nothing to do with the cold winter. All Tanjin could think about was that it was way worse than death. Again, he made a bad decision. Keda was right. He could never think things through.


	16. The flogging of the son of Attila

**Disclaimer: **Don't own anything but my own characters...

Thanks op, alias Iamalittlepuddleduck ( such a cute pseudo) and Unearthing. Your comments made my day last time. I'm glad you two are still with me. It means the world to me.

Some days, I wake up so "frenchy", I can't find the words in english to write this story. Sorry for the bad grammar ! I tried my best. I'm searching for a beta.

16 - The flogging of the son of Attila

Feral.

Primitive.

Inherent.

His Fear.

An indescribable fear seethes his bones. Tanjin was unable to move or run from it. He stared dumbfounded as the Lictor prepared the place for their sacrifice. Arthur was taking off his armor and Lancelot was nervously jumping next to him. Tanjin struggled to breathe. For him… To protect him… They… did this… Vanora slapped Bors for his silliness and kindness. Sylena cried, Melan too. Aggravain held on his brother tightly. Did he start this? Was it his fault?

His hair was blown by the wind. Green emerald eyes gleamed with unshed tears. _Don't you become a girl, Tanjin? You survive this. 'Till we meet again... _

Bors, who bragged that it was all a piece of cake, was the first to go. Bent over a wooden pillar, he chatted with Dagonet while two lictors alternated blows from the bare shoulders, down the body, to the soles of his feet. He kept smiling, calling "Rus" now and then, asking his lover to forgive him when he will be too tired to move later. Vanora was hysterical in her anger. She basically called them all idiots and threatened to skin his ass later.

**20… **

Bors lost his focus. Blood streamed his back and his discomfort started to be more apparent. Their rhythms started to increase. He would lose the thread of his conversation with Dagonet more often.

**95…**

Bors could barely lift his head and nod.

**120… **

Tears blurred his visions. Tanjin growled inwardly. He was so weak. Did he start this?

**135…**

His face hung low. Bors could no longer answer Vanora. She would call him idiot. She would tell him she hated him. He would only nod meekly. He struggled to stand. His muscles were going numb in the cold. It seeped in his bones and he started to shake uncontrollably. Fifty more… Bors would take fifty more…for the kid. His blood fed the ground. A spot of red adorned the courtyard.

**155… **

All that Bors saw was stars… Pretty shiny stars like Vanora's smile… All that he felt was pain… Blinding and uncompromising pain… Dagonet, Braden and a Roman soldier lifted him. Gawain eagerly took his place, shivering in the cold… Shivering with remorse…

**175…**

His dirty blonde hair masked his tears. Aggravain held his hands, something he was not allowed to do but they had already broken so many rules.

**195… **

Minutes went by slowly. Tanjin did not know how to face this. Them. How to put a stop to a lie? Was it really a lie? How can it be a lie if you had swallowed that fact like truth all your life? It was not a lie. It was his life.

**200… **

He had to take the punishment for he, Gawain, was guiltier of this crime than the others. He was sorry. It was his entire fault. The flogging will not expiate his sins. He was not about to let Tanjin be punished in his stead.

Galahad kneeled not far from them and whispered words of encouragements. They were all going to go home after this. They had too. If not, it would be meaningless.

**258…** His body sagged on the pillar. He lost consciousness. Aggravain pushed him in the snow and took his place. Jols and Duncan grabbed him. Gawain left a trail of blood behind him. The crowd was still cheering and lamenting in the background. Nobody knew if it was justice. It did not feel like it.

**298**… His back was a mess. He was about to pass out from the pain, the cold or both. His fists clenched. Damn, it hurts. He would much rather milk a cow on all four like young Gareth. A harsh slap drew more blood on his shoulder. God, Arthur's God, any God, Aggravain felt like dying right now.

**301**… He collapsed just when Duncan and Jols came back. They immediately tried to slap him awake. But he was shaking, barely able to stand… The seat was open and Galahad tried to muster the courage to go. Finally, the most coward knight, Danis, proposed.

**321**… As he was as small in stature as he was courageous, Danis lasted twenty rows of whips before collapsing. Percival followed him swiftly though after a hundred whips.

**450**… It was an endless nightmare. Seeing them fall one by one, he wanted to throw up. The ground was muddy underneath the pillar. Braden… Dagonet…

**752**… Someone should end this! Blaez pushed past Galahad and bent slightly. They put the shackles on him.

**780**… Each flogs was the inspiration from a new curse. Every one of them directed at Tanjin with a passion such that ought to be non-existent in his position.

"I hate you! I hate you, you sneaky bastard! I hate you, you bitch! And I am damn sure your mother hates you to! She hates your ugly face just like I do ! Damn, hunnish Beast! I despise you, horrible two-faced dwarf ! I wish someone shit on your muddy face, good-for-nothing brat! Why don't you die next?"

**854**… "Give me all you've got, you bloody wanker! Are you a fucking Hun? Is that all you've got? Why are your hands so bloody weak and shaky? Put some strength into it? It's like you don't even try! You, Romans, you are all useless! How can I say this more clearly! I don't feel anything, you fucking bastard! Want me to show you? Are you bloody watching, Tanjin? I will fucking spill my guts on you if you don't. You better watch! Be ready, Tanjin? One fucking day, I will fucking make you repay me for this, you girlish wuss! Damn you disgust me!

**875**…

"Damn I wish I could spit… on Attila's face… just because he sired you!" Blaez shouted his breathing labored. "I will fucking kill you myself when I'm done. Watch out ! Your skin is mine, spineless bastard! I bet you can't do this! Sacrificing yourself for someone else! I bet you selfish brat you can't even do that! How I wish I could pummel that pretty face of yours while he is flaying me alive! Bloody hell, Tanjin ! You better… not… die… today! I will…kill you… tomorrow… first thing… in… the morning ! "

**938**…

When it seems like nothing could shut him up, Blaez collapsed suddenly. His hands bound, the iron chains were the only thing that held all the pieces of him together. Duncan pushed him aside as Jols and another man took care of him.

"My pretty face is off- limits, okay?"

**954**…

Tanjin could not take any of this anymore. He just wanted to scream. He was fine before. He was fine when he hated them all. Now, the tears wouldn't stop falling. His hands could not stop shaking. Tanjin was defeated.

**1010…**

He barely shifted when the whip stroke his back. Duncan was used to this. Hundreds of old scars were reopened in a few strokes. It was like in the old days except… Except now, it had a deeper meaning because he loves Tanjin. He didn't want to see him hurt. He could not imagine seeing him hurt. His fist clenched the chains. Maybe, he will be rid of theses impure feelings. But as he was almost kneeling silently wincing at every lash, he knew that it was just hypocritical, wishful thinking on his part. He wasn't about to let go. He had made up his mind. A hand clasped with his…He was barely conscious. His mind wanted to escape to a better place like it used to. He had to stay awake.

**1106**...

" Please, stop it."

Duncan opened his eyes.

Immediately, a pool of dark green irises swallowed him. He remembered then the first time they fought. How much he struggled back then to not kiss a smelly boy on an impulse.

"You said we were friends. Just stop it, that's enough."

He can only smile. That better place, he wished he could take Tanjin with him.

**1178**… He felt numb. Nothing could rouse him. But because Duncan's eyes are still resolutely open, the lictor kept on whipping the life out of him. His back was just flesh and bones. His skin was gone. Damn, Amery kissed those lips and he kissed her back. That… That ought to hurt more.

- That's enough, Duncan!.

**1221**… Arthur was appalled but Duncan was firmly rooted on his feet. It ought to hurt more. How come he didn't feel anything anymore? The air was wet with Tanjin's tears. Galahad was throwing up a few feet away. But, that damn kiss and that damn harlot hurt him more than this. He felt pathetic.

**1310**… His father used to say that Duncan was just a nuisance, another useless mouth to feed… He preferred it that way. He'd rather have the old man took it out on him instead of the girl they found in the wood and that he called his sister during a few years. He had no doubt that she would be dead or with child or…dead… by now. They were times when he believed it. The fact that he was useless… Mostly though, he didn't. He was not much of a man. But he was quite decent. Why was he remembering this now among the overpowering smell of fresh snow? It was snowing.

- I will take over ! Lancelot Said.

- Shut the fuck up, Lance ! I need peace! Duncan groaned, blood on his lips.

Tanjin's hand clasping his, he was in a fucking good place. So the others should just sod off! He could take this. It was fucking nothing. He had seen worse. So god help him, he could not hurt as much as Amery's fucking lips on Tanjin.

**1399**… His legs started shaking. He struggled to stay on his feet. Tanjin got up, his voice a bare whisper.

- That's okay. That's okay. You let go now. I am not afraid anymore, you can let go now! Please just let go, Duncan.

**1445** Duncan lifted his eyes, bloodshot with pain. He would never let go. That is what he wanted to say. He wanted to scream it in a brief moment of insanity. He wanted to tell him that he was part of the people who didn't wish him dead. He was part of the people who fucking loved him and his selfish ways. Why would he let go? He wasn't that stupid. But instead, his legs gave way.

"Keep going! I can take it!"

They were his last words before he fell unconscious.

- I will take his place.

Tanjin found a new resolution deep inside. He was a man no matter what.

- No! Step away Tanjin! I think it is my turn.

Lancelot and Tristan carried Duncan to the healer. When they arrived he was barely breathing. Arthur extended his arms. Tiberius stood rooted on the spot. He would not… Arthur… This fool ! This was his turn to be shackled and anchored to the post.

The first whip was weak. The lictor's hands shook as he had never been the witness to such situations. He'd never beat up a roman commander before. But then, he remembered his duty and carried it out with energy.

**1470** God wasn't helping he realized. He could pray all he wanted. It wasn't helping. Lancelot would probably laugh if he told him. It hurt very much the same. But where his best friend was right was that he had a duty to protect his men. He had a duty to defend them. He knew that Tanjin was half-broken when he found him. He knew it. He was determined to help him anyway. That determination had not changed. He was not made their captain to advance his political career, like it was a birthright, or some kind of legacy. It was not like that. He was born to fulfill a destiny. He was born to protect them even from themselves.

**1520** Each whiplash he clenched his fists tight and closed his eyes. The crowd shuddered with him. Tiberius was rooted on the same spot. Salva had gone home unable to bear witness to such violence. He stayed there, his eyes blank. Tiberius couldn't help feeling like Arthur has again surpassed him. Shame, this was what he was feeling deep down. He failed to see what was important here. Here, Arthur was whipped for his convictions, because he believed every men were equal, he believed that all slaves deserves freedom, that all children deserve a chance. The crowd was enthralled; his men blindly followed him to hell. Despite his young age, he was way superior a commander than the likes of Tiberius.

**1580…** His back is no longer flawless. He had never received a slap from his father or Pelagius. He was way too reasonable as a child for this. But, he was going to die with those scars now.

- You almost had me fooled there. Lancelot said.

He could not talk though he wished he was as eloquent as Blaez.

- I hated you blindly. I am sorry.

- I know… He managed.

Above his waist was numb… He felt nothing, not even the cold. Lancelot's words were enough to warm him.

- How does it look?

Lancelot smiled wickedly.

- Beautiful, my friend.

**1600**… Arthur's eyes fluttered ever so slightly. The pain was now more localized. His body did not respond to him anymore. He wished he could hold longer. Feeling powerless for the first time ever, he promised himself to not forget this feeling. He gestured for Tanjin to approach. Tanjin walked stiffly. He motioned for him to lower down and pat his head gently.

- You have a chance to make things right. Again, I will not let you fall.

Arthur meant it, every word. Hoping this would serve as a lesson, that maybe, just maybe, they would all learn something from this… That he would become a better man because of this. He was hopelessly naïve.

**1880…** Collapsing in the arm of Lancelot, Arthur was taken away by Jols, carried by many volunteers from the crowd. Lancelot shared a look with Tristan. Those mysterious eyes would not give away their secrets today. Lancelot shrugged and smiled. He had such a perfect back before with barely a few scars to adorn it. Maidens from every country must be on the verge of crying right now. It hurt rather more than what he anticipated and he wondered by what miracle did the others lasted so long. Tanjin was before him again. He almost wanted to laugh at the incongruity of it all.

Damn, it hurt.

**1901**... His eyes were shut and all he could feel was pain.

**1998** …

All he could think was that there was no way Tanjin and his girlish frame could withstand such pain. He struggled to stand. It was just ridiculously silly. He was getting angry again. Fuck Rome ! Fuck this !

**2088…** Time went by so slowly. How many lashes left? His mouth was foaming. God? His back was fucking burning and he could barely feel the tip of his fingers. Lancelot grinned. Only for this, he would kill those three romans all over again. Blood from his back trickled on the ground slowly. It was not yet flesh and bones but it was getting close. The Lictors were relentless. They were a challenge. Lancelot sneered. He would take them on any day though.

**2148**… His mind was almost delirious with thoughts. He just wanted to be free. He would kill them all. See, he was no better than the Hun. He heard faintly the voice of Sylena as the girl tried to stop them… Duncan and Blaez were almost dead…and… What? He could not hear her completely. The chaos was music to his ears. The lictors didn't stop and he didn't either. Fuck it he was a Samartian! They rode until there was no grass left.

**2220…** He was half-assed conscious. He knew Tanjin was rebelling somehow. The sound of his voice was distant but he could hear the protests. He was almost done. If he fell here, all would be left on Tanjin or Tristan… If someone had seen Tristan, his torso bare, they would understand Lancelot's reservations on gambling on this last card. These two would be useless. Anyhow, Tristan ate too many apples to be of some use in this situation.

**2300**… When the lictor announced the number of lashes, it felt like the end of the road. Though, if he could trust his own calculations, he had four hundred more to take. Lancelot really wished Sextus was alive, so that he'd killed him all over again.

**2361**… He was sick with the smell. His mind wanted to escape. Every now and then, he would close his eyes and forget where he was. He wanted to go home human so they better left him with some skin on his back. He went out like a candle, just like that. One minute, he had his eyes on a brunet he took to bed a few weeks ago, the next, everything got black.

Tristan smiled faintly. Yes, he was a calculating bastard. So what if he was the most selfish knights of Arthur's round table, Tanjin was still his? It was his secret. Wasn't it the ultimate test? Tanjin had that resolve on his face. He was unbuttoning his shirt and his leather vest… As if he was ready to tell the truth…Tristan was not. He could not sort out his feelings yet. He had to have more time. He bent over and let himself be tied to the post.

- I know your secret. He said.

**2402**… Green eyes grew wide with pure unadulterated fear. It would be almost comical if it was not so sad.

- You know? Tanjin muttered.

- You like flowers. He said as the lictor picked up some pace. I won't let the others find out though.

- Why ? Why would you do that? Why doing all this for me?

Typical of Tanjin! He was so slow to understand human emotions just like him.

**2480**… They were almost to the good part.

- Because you like flowers, of course.

He pursued his lips. The pout made his features that much more delicate. Tristan was almost to the good part. A freezing wind blew softly and Tristan's lips turned a purplish color. But that was okay, he likes the cold as much as Tanjin likes flower or blood… or red.

**2555**… He was not yet delirious but his heart clenched slightly because of the pain in her face. She was the last person he wanted to hurt. It was like he was standing in a puddle of blood.

"I don't like it. Tanjin and you… sacrificing yourself to protect me. I hate it. I hate the sight of Blood. Tanjin loves it. But I hate it."

She heaved a sigh.

Maybe he was delirious after all, because it wasn't Tanjin he was facing. It was her. Nibbling on her lips, she looked at him with sorrowful eyes. He wanted to know more but he felt himself slip away.

His hawk squeaked in the sky. It was like a dream really. She held out a hand.

**2612**… He was almost there. In order to keep her to himself, he had to stay awake.

- Tanjin said he is not afraid now. You can let go.

- I can't. I can't…I have to stay awake.

- They will know soon. Tanjin doesn't like it but I cannot hide much longer. I have to come out somehow.

Tristan shook his head. Tanjin's face didn't change. He was still the same in all appearances. Was he dreaming this?

- I will protect your secret… Just…a few more…

**2678… ** When he opened his eyes, he was met with fierce green eyes. Behind them, the sunset colored with its last light the scenery. His head was caught in the last rays of sunlight. Angular shadows cast his face in sepia and tone. Green eyes glared with barely unrestrained anger. Dangerous shards of emerald green with a golden spark burned a hole in him.

- I can very well protect myself. Don't put ideas in her head?

What? In her…head? What? Was that all the thanks he got for his generosity? Tristan's temper flared also. Was he dreaming ? He did not even feel the last strokes of whip. He grabbed Tanjin's hands with the last of his strength. Well, maybe it wasn't the kind of story where the cold bastard got the girl at the end, still… He could do with some thanks. Instead, Tanjin stared coldly as he lost his balance.

Tanjin grabbed him at the last minute. Lust. He could see it in Tristan's eyes. He would never let himself open for grab. He was not a girl. Tristan was trying to manipulate him. To possess. He refused to be possessed. Tristan toppled on the Hun, his muscles so numb and frozen he was unable to move.

- You think you can play with me. You're mistaken. I am not fragile. You will not break me. I have lived this lie longer than you can imagine. I lived like this all my life. I am Tanjin. The great Irony is that I trust all the knights. But I don't trust you, Tristan. It will never change.

His knees hit the ground. He was freed by some kind of miracle. But his chest was in pain. His skin was aflame everywhere. It was definitely more painful than seeing her sharing that kiss with Amery. The kiss was inconsequential and meaningless. This. It was definitely more painful.

**2700**… Tanjin hated him… because Tristan was the only one to see through him.


	17. Crimson dirty little secrets

I really want to thank everyone for reading this story and for the support I received through it. I really have a thought for each of you, guys!

* * *

**- 17 -**

** Crimson dirty little secrets**

A storm was approaching.

He couldn't tell how he knew for sure. The sky was an endless blue barely cloudy on its edges. The sun glared brightly. But as hot as the summer was, it was humid and suffocating. A strong wind blew the moisture on his brow and his curly hair. He had to let one of the women cut it one of these days. No way, he would let Bors touch it again. He had been bald for a summer. Bald Lancelot was certainly not nearly as charming. Months had passed and seasons had changed since the trial. He was glad that the "old man", the Praetor relocated south after spending the whole winter at the fortress. As usual, he gave a leer to the cute wooden Virgin Mary which stood in front of the chapel. Arthur did not make him wait and rose from his kneeling position.

- I thought your god and you were not on speaking terms.

- You were mistaken as always. We are speaking and celebrating the end of a fruitful summer.

- Well, no loss. A few victories… We are back on track. No thanks to that Good-for-nothing god of yours.

Arthur only smiled.

- A rider signaled them earlier this morning. They are back. Lancelot said.

- It looks like they found nothing out of ordinary.

- The reports that Woads were getting bold on the West front of the wall were inexact then.

- We don't know about that though.

- But I think your plan had failed…

Arthur and Lancelot exchanged a meaningful gaze as the riders entered the courtyard.

- Don't tell me…

Arthur faced his men. Presently, they looked like a hot mess. Tanjin and Tristan sported numerous bruised on their faces. A slight gash adorned on Tristan's neck. A few days ago, he sent a team investigating west of Hadrian's wall. Lancelot concealed a grin.

- I can never doubt the sense of humor of that good-for-nothing god of yours.

Percival and Dagonet dismounted with ease. Tristan stopped his mare and followed their examples. Tanjin, the Prince Hun, had difficulties in controlling Scourge's fiery temper, and the horse paced furiously back and forth in the courtyard. Nothing had changed really. Except, Tristan sported a bruise on his jaw and Tanjin's lips were opened in two places.

- I see you've encountered trouble on the road.

Percival shook his head.

- We rode with two troublemakers. Those two could not stop bickering. At one point, Dag had to interfere. The bruises are their own doing though.

Dagonet shook his head.

- Sorry, captain.

Tristan sent a glare to Dagonet. Then, without a word, he took off in the direction of his rooms. Tanjin finally managed to get off his horse. The stallion shook his head in frenzy. The Hun passed Arthur with barely a nod of acknowledgement and took the same direction than Tristan.

Percival gave them a full report on the activity on the West. Things were less alarming than they thought. After that, Dagonet and Percival took off to the tavern. Arthur sighed.

- After such a streak of good luck, being wrong is becoming an increasingly common occurrence. I say we be careful, commander.

- Lancelot, I told you maybe. I ventured a guess. I did not assume that all will be well just because I wished it so.

- You told me. I do quote: "If they spent more time with each other, forced to cooperate with one another, these two will stop their secret feud, Lancelot."

- It was worth trying. Arthur said.

- I don't like this. I sense hardships and a whip.

- Lancelot…

- Once was enough. Like Bors, my back, just like his balls, still hurts when it rains.

He turned and was surprised to hear Arthur, the ever serious captain of the samartian knights, let out a boisterous laugh.

- No, you are not laughing at me." Lancelot said. "My back is healed. My pride is not."

- You sounded just like a woman. Arthur snickered.

- I hate your new carefree and happy-go-lucky attitude! This is wrong. Suddenly they can't tolerate the presence of each other! I tell you something really bad happened and…

- Our two greatest warriors… This could become an inconvenience.

Arthur teased again, his eyes gleaming with mirth. Lancelot was so busy complaining he barely noticed.

- Exactly!

Lancelot turned around.

- No! I am the greatest warrior! They're both obnoxious fellows. We cannot put up with their antics any longer. What happened if during next mission, they really try to kill each other, and I lost my temper and I kill them both? We would be short of two men. Arthur, why won't you be serious about this?"

Arthur sobered up a little.

- You're right. I don't know. I've never seen Tristan this mad before.

- I know. He's never been mad, period. He's never felt a thing.

- I tried talking to him on occasions. But it was pointless of course. Tristan is never in a sharing mood. He is also skilled at avoiding questions. Tanjin is being Tanjin so… I'm not surprised. You think he would have stayed on his best behavior forever. Think again! But it's Tanjin we're talking about. You wouldn't expect any less of him. Any less and I seriously would be worried."

Lancelot scoffed.

It was true that during the days that followed the trials, Tanjin had been uncharacteristically gentle, patient, quiet and reasonable. He helped Melan and Jols taking care of all the injured knights. Despite his hatred for horses, he took care of Duncan's mare. Every day, he brought Gawain and Aggravain their favorite bread from the tavern. Sitting by his side, he prayed for Arthur in Latin. Well, he actually insulted Arthur's faith more than he helped, ranting about how his mother told him that the Pope loved boys. But whatever, it turned out to be idle banter. While he was partially conscious, he told Lancelot about his womanizer of a brother and sang in hunnish which he was truly awful at. Blaez and Tanjin still exchanged a few insults now and then. But since the incident, they had entered some kind of unspoken truce. Tanjin had stayed an entire night watching the blond when he caught an infection due to his wounds. He barely spent a day without visiting Duncan. In fact, the only person toward which he did not extent any form of sympathy was Tristan. He wondered what happened.

- Tanjin, the smelly prince Hun!

His smelly days may be over. Tanjin was a stubborn being. Something must have happened. Arthur thought. True, he was more worried about Tristan than he was about Tanjin. Tristan had never quite been the same. He was moody and downright rude when someone decided to probe too much on his private thoughts. The other day, he made Sylena cry and Braden threaten to axe him. Tristan was definitely not himself. It was starting to show.

- You are deep in thought, Arthur.

- You wanted me to be.

- I do like the cheerful new you. I know I should have said so earlier. But, I do like the cheerful new you. You may lose your virginity one day if you keep this attitude.

Arthur sent a glare in Lancelot's direction.

- I said nothing. My lips are sealed. It is much more fun and easy to beat you on the practice field when you're in theses moods.

- You're awfully conceited. I see that your bruised ego had healed just fine.

* * *

The training grounds appeared in sights. They were not surprised to find Galahad. His body shone under the harsh rays of sunlight. Beads of sweat slid along his pale skin. His torso was defined and chiseled, his hair growing on his flawless back. He, Melan and Tanjin were the only ones who were spared the day of the trial. Not that, it made a difference to Galahad. Three nights ago, Gawain told Arthur that Galahad still had nightmares about that day.

Arthur drew Excalibur and Lancelot his twin swords. Their blades collided together with a great metallic thud. There were a lot of things Lancelot was unaware of these days but it was not by choice. He was determined to see that they all get their discharge papers. And like he told Arthur, it upset him greatly that Tristan had chosen a path of anger and resentment and that Galahad had chosen to overwork himself over his love for a woman. But now the situation was different. He was keeping an eye on them knowing Arthur was only human.

Tanjin, Duncan and Amery, approached slowly.

Arthur froze in his tracks when Duncan's balance seemed precarious but Tanjin held him firmly. It surprised him each time to see Tanjin act gently and considerate. Duncan's recovery had been the longest and the most uncertain. He took such a beating that his back was still red with millions of fresh scars. Amery went fetching a chair and she asked Galahad to help Tanjin with Duncan. Of course, being enamored with the blonde like he was, Galahad obeyed her wishes without so much of a protest.

Amery was constantly fussing over one of the knights. She devoted all her free time to them. Jols cynically called her the "fiftieth Knight" of Arthur's round table. She carried a stool from the stables.

- Duncan, glad to see, you can still lift that lazy ass of yours. Lancelot called out.

But it was Tanjin who answered.

- He needs the sun.

Tanjin pronounced those words with confidence as if he'd become some kind of healing expert while they were busy healing themselves. Galahad sneered. He was still not an admirer of the Prince Hun.

- I was bored out of my mind.

Duncan admitted looking at Tanjin from the corner of his eyes. Just like Galahad had become manlier in a matter of months, something had changed in Tanjin's figure but Lancelot could not still make out what exactly. He was not taller. Galahad, the youngest, now was an inch taller than him. He was not exactly chubbier. But it was like he was "fuller", his face a little more round and soft on the angles. It made no sense whatsoever but Tanjin had changed. The vacant look in his eyes was gone and for that he was thankful.

An entangled curl of brownish dark hair fell on his face. The beady hands of a spellbound young girl chase after the precious locks of auburn. Tanjin only groaned as Amery fussed with his hair. Finally, they helped Duncan to sit.

- It made absolutely no sense staying in a dark dusty room on such a bright day.

The girl announced with a bright smile. Galahad smiled back. Lancelot and Arthur grinned. Amery had that charm. While Lancelot was not abused by the artificial innocence she presented in the surface, believing she was far too wanton, generally too much of a woman, for the likes of Galahad or Tanjin, he didn't dislike her. For Arthur, she was still her lovely and gentle young thing in need of protection. She became like a little sister to all of them.

- Just to see that bright smile, I'd say that it was probably worth the long walk. Duncan said.

Amery blushed faintly. Galahad sulked a little bit. Duncan scoffed.

Actually, he wasn't referring to the wench's fake smile but to Tanjin's " before-battle" bloodthirsty grin.

Lancelot and Arthur watched all their exchanged curiously. Tanjin drew his scimitar, climbed agilely on the fence before jumping in the air.

- Don't look so jealous, Arthur, they only teach this kind of trick to Barbarian spawn.

Galahad picked up his weapon and immediately hit Tanjin before he was back on his feet. Tanjin parried with ease, jumping out of reach in a matter of seconds. On his hands, then on his feet, in the air, then on his hands again, he skipped nimbly. Lancelot twisted his swords in his hands. Sensing his friend's restlessness, Arthur pointed his sword at him. They started again.

Amery and Duncan quietly observed.

Close! Tanjin sighed, feeling Galahad's sword grazed his neck. He was fast. Galahad had made such progress since his first days as a knight. His blows had strength in it and precision. He became also a skilled tactician. He couldn't beat Tanjin's rapidity and fluidity of movements. Tanjin's moves were something unseen and unheard of. It was a seamless improvisation of moves in the air. A thousand choreographies memorized. Tanjin was an amazing fighter, he could admit that much. But he had a tendency to rely on the same tricks again and again. Tanjin jumped again this time, even higher. His knees were going to catch Galahad's throat by surprise. But Galahad dropped to his knees, lowering his body, avoiding Tanjin at the last minute.

Green eyes widened with stupor.

Galahad grinned, having struck the Hun where it hurt the most, his pride.

Tanjin rolled nimbly to his feet. Galahad was faster at recovering and caught him with the back of his sword. It concluded the first round as Tanjin froze on the spot. Galahad had touched him.

- I can predict your move, your highness.

Despite his bruised lips, Tanjin's smile only spread wider. What a challenge this turned out to be!

- You wish you were at the level where you can walk in my shadows. He taunted back.

Galahad frowned. Did he not just demonstrate that he could do better than just being ...Tanjin's shadow?

- You disgust me. I would never walk in the shadows with you.

Tanjin assumed a defensive stance and invited him to resume. The brunet was not nearly dumb enough to fall for this. His defensive stance could only mask that he was going…

- You brag a lot these days, Galahad. I still kissed your woman.

Attack. It did the trick. Galahad attacked only to be side-stepped by Tanjin. Tanjin's sword and blade brushed past his shoulders.

- Don't get cocky? You opened your mouth only to copy Tristan.

Tanjin fumed. Their blades clashed furiously and heatedly together under the sun. One hour later, Arthur and Lancelot had long deserted the field. Tanjin and Galahad were still going at it with the same stamina.

Tanjin stumbled suddenly. Dizziness took over. His stomach was burning. He could not even comprehend quite what was happening to him. Gritting his teeth, he kicked Galahad's flanks. That was dirty. But in battle, he would achieve victory trough any means. Galahad groaned and stepped back.

- Cheap tricks again, Tanjin!

Pain flashed through his mind. Galahad retaliated with the back of his sword. It tore up the fabric of the leather up to his belly. Tanjin gritted his teeth. It was such a small discomfort that he didn't think for one second that it could hinder him and prevent his victory. Nothing could prevent victory. He willed himself to move faster, to strike harder, and to be even more ruthless.

He leaned again on the fence. With a groan, he climbed on it and soared out in the sky again. Too slow, Galahad had time to bend and avoid his feet. Tanjin pivoted immediately, his blade dangerously close to Galahad's neck. If he had his glove it would have strike twice, Galahad would be dead. He flashed his sharp teeth. Galahad responded accordingly. Their blades collided again. Galahad pushed him back with a vicious kick in his stomach. Tanjin doubled over for a second.

Amery's fists clenched nervously on Duncan's chair. Galahad even frowned but he knew better than to lower his guard.

Tanjin's right leg shot upward, pushing Galahad in the fence. Backed in a corner, there was nothing the Samartian could do. He could only thrust his sword to prevent from getting decapitated. It was not nearly enough because with a twist of his hands, Tanjin managed to disarm him.

- My victory.

The fiendish prince stepped away with a wolfish smile. He turned around, not wanting to show Galahad he had yet to catch his breath. The dull pain did not stop. His legs felt wobbly. His back hurt. He won but he was barely standing. Galahad grabbed his sword back.

- I am not finished yet. I won too. I believe this is the last round. But if you're not up to it, I will understand…

Tanjin spun around. That brat! With a glint for a smile, he took another stance. His eyes were blazing with arrogance.

- This was nothing! I would win any day of the week, Galahad. You are too weak to even pose a threat to me. Know your place.

- I am a slow learner… Show it me, Tanjin, if you can, that is!

Amery watched the boys. Their actions were soon back to be a blur of movements and a swishing of blades. Her face was drawn in a mask of gravity.

- They are fighting for your honor, it seems. Duncan said.

He said it matter-of-factly but his eyes and his scarred eyebrow showed the true colors of his feelings. They were ugly colors she could tell. Amery sighed.

- It has nothing to do with me. It's men and their pride and probably the fact that they are still little boys inside too.

- Probably. Duncan said somberly.

Amery swallowed hard.

- I did not ask to be put in a situation where I have to arbitrate their petty power struggle.

- It is a known fact that Galahad adores you. He is as stubborn as Tanjin. He will never let go and will probably die trying to prove his worth to you. Tanjin probably play around with you just to spite him.

She stared down at him. He shrugged disdainfully.

- You are insulting me and Tanjin also. The Prince Hun does not play around.

- You're creating an unnecessary rift between two brothers in arms. In battle, it could prove deadly.

She should not feel any shame but she did. Somehow she felt like someone had pulled a rug under her feet or threw a bucket of cold water at her. She was not naïve enough to think her presence among the knights was nothing but tolerated at time. They were men at war. Women, any women at all, represented more often than not a hindrance. But she did not know Duncan harbored such resentment towards her.

- You know nothing about me. You have the gall to speak to me this way. Judging me when you are, on all account, the self-centered perverted one.

Duncan's blue eyes shot up in recognition. His face lost instantly some of its composure. Her arms crossed against her chest, she continued:

- You think I did not notice the way you look at him.

- You are speaking nonsense.

- I know you love him and I am fine with that. At least, I was…

Duncan surveyed the field. Arthur and Lancelot had long wandered off. Tanjin and Galahad were too busy beating the hell out of each other to mind them. Still, the wench was walking on a thin line with him.

- Stop saying such ridiculous things, Amery.

- Then, you took almost 500 lashes just because the mood suits you. You are truly an inspiring force of nature.

Duncan looked down at the grassy fields.

- I could forgive your cruel words if it was just out of jealousy and envy.

- Shut up!

- Then, believe that I do not want to hurt them! I care for them very much. I care for both of them the same. I'm not the cause of their rivalry because I know Tanjin does not love me.

- But…

- I guess we are friends. He never lain with me. I just… I will not be judged by you, Duncan. I will not. I did nothing wrong.

- Anyway, I don't care.

- He knows that I love him. He knows that I care. Can you say the same thing?

- Shut up ! There's nothing that…

- You wouldn't do… Well, obviously. But does it have to make us enemy?

A pregnant pause. Duncan sighed, lowering his gaze to the crowd.

- I am sorry. I was out of line. Sometimes, I just don't recognize myself. It borders on the ridiculous. Forget what I said. I was just being irrational.

- I cannot thank you enough for what you did for him. I don't know why I rely on him. But I do. I could not lose him so soon. I can never hate you because of that.

She extended a hand toward him. He accepted it and nodded.

* * *

The sun set down behind the walls of Hadrian, symbolizing the end of warm summer day. Tanjin dropped his gloves on his bed.

- Hey, Tanjin, you're back?

He turned around and shrugged. Melan was dressed with a sky blue camisole, his hair braided. He almost looked like a girl. He smiled gently.

- Where were you?

- Arthur asked me to escort Vanora, Sylena and the other women outside the fort to the lake.

He only shrugged. Arthur probably asked him to give the boy something to do, just like he had sent Tanjin on an errand with Tristan. Melan arranged wild flowers in a vase and Tanjin did not even take a look at it. He feigned to not notice how strong they smell and how soft and enticing the petals looked.

- You look pale.

Tanjin drew a deep breath.

- Well, I won against Galahad but it was such a tight draw that it doesn't feel like a real victory. He is getting increasingly cocky. It's annoying. That monkey used dirty tricks on me. I know I have to train more seriously. But I feel… I feel weak for some reason.

Melan nodded. Tanjin hated to lose. It was something they've all learned long ago. Tanjin was the worse gambler and he never fails to fall in the tricks of the likes of Gawain or Aggravain. It was always such a big deal to him that he sulked for days. Melan understood that Failure was unacceptable in hunnish lore. Tanjin always took it to heart.

But today, he truly looked extremely pale and extremely feverish. Maybe it was exhaustion. He fetched some water in a cup and offered it to the prince. Tanjin accepted it without a thanks or a nod of acknowledgment as usual. After taking a sip he pulled his shirt up slightly. His sculpted stomach sported a large bruise.

- Did Galahad improve?

- Slightly, I must confess. It infuriates me how he looks down on me. It's like he doesn't know his place. I hate it!

Green eyes narrowed anxiously. Melan shrugged the tension away.

- But in the end, he lost…

He tried to cheer him up. At last, Tanjin's lips curved upwards in a smile.

- Yes, he bit the dust. I won. Twice. You should have seen me. I felt my blood roar… It was magnificent. He lost so shamefully. You should have seen this. Amery went with him to console him. He can be such a baby and a sore loser too. He doesn't understand the simplest fact. He can't catch up with me because he is the youngest. I am way older and smarter. Instead of a challenge to him, I should be an example of what he can never dream to be.

A smile tugged Melan's lips upward too. That was more like the Tanjin he knew. However Tanjin frowned quickly.

- What is it? You're hiding something?

- My stomach hurts. It's so awkward. I do not feel happy. Victory is supposed to bring happiness. But I feel… I feel nothing. I feel dull.

He felt nothing? Melan lowered his gaze and frowned. Tanjin's brown breeches were a shade darker than it was supposed to be, the fabric moist near his crotch.

- Did you wet… I mean… You…

Melan was at a loss for words. Noticing too, Tanjin's eyes spread wide. He caught up the faint scent of his own blood.

- What is this? Did he wound me?

- Tanjin…

- I'm going to kill him… I will rip his heart out … I will… Or maybe I'm dying…That's it! I'm numb! I can't feel anything. I cannot be dying by his hands! This is a nightmare! I cannot be dying like this.

He stumbled on the bed, hiding his face in the mattress.

- I cannot die like this. It is unacceptable. Do something.

- I don't think it is Galahad's doing. I will call the healer. I will call Arthur.

Melan spurred to the door but Tanjin called him back.

- No! You are a healer too! What is happening to me?

His voice reached such a level of anxiety. Tears blurred his visions.

- But… I am not sure.

- What? What?

- You really don't know?

- Obviously! What did he do to me? He whimpered.

- Stop crying, Tanjin! I know you are scared but…

Tanjin shook his head anxiously, barely listening.

- I am not crying, you Dumbass ! I am not scared. I can feel it now. I am bleeding. How dare he? I will rip his treacherous head off. Maybe I won't make it through the night! But somebody has to avenge me! Ask Lancelot to do it! Or Duncan! That brat must die! Do you hear me? It was a mock fight! It's not fair! He did not play fair! Melan, it's important! You have to burn my body when the sun is at its highest. Nobody is allowed to touch me. Only you… Because… you're like my most trusted servant… My blood… Drink it just after I passed. It will make you stronger. This is the way of the Hun. Do not disappoint me. There are things…I need to teach you... I do not have time. Nobody should see me like this. Nobody…should… see me… You have to wrap me only in colored linens. Black is favored. Red is the best. No white! You should never wear white. White is for Christian and weak pagans… I am neither. Bury me under flower petals and burn me with my brother's swords. It's important… You need to put a token of value in my mouth. If not, I will not be… I will not rest peacefully. I will haunt all of you. I will haunt Galahad! Forget it! Do not put a token in my mouth. I will rip his head off as a powerful vengeful spirit! As the god are my forefathers and…

- Calm down, Tanjin…

- I'm dying… I… It hurts. He cried. I don't want to die so soon.

- No, you are not… You are not dying. Stop saying that!

- Then help me! Make it stop !

- I can't ! You are not dying ! You are becoming a woman !

Tanjin's heart missed a bit.

- What?

- You're bleeding. That's what women do on a certain moon. My sisters told me. It's called the cycle.

- No… No… No… Women do on a certain moon? A cycle? What is this? Melan, it's impossible as I am not a girl.

Melan stared at him with that compassionate face of his.

- Tanjin…

- Leave me alone!

- I'm only trying to help.

- I don't need your help! Go away!

- You refuse to listen. But it's alright. You have nothing to be ashamed of. You do

- I am not a woman… a girl… I am not weak. Why would you say something like that? How could you say something like that to me, you impudent fool? How dare you speak of me this way! You have shamed the name of my father. I thought we were friends! I despise you. Now, go away before I chastised you. Go! I do not wish to ever see your face again, Melan! Do not appear before me if you wish to live!

Melan touched his shoulder.

- Tanjin, I'm trying to help!

- Don't you dare touch me, lowly bastard ! I want to be alone. I need to be alone. Go away. Leave me alone! I am Tanjin ! I am Tanjin! So go away! I command you to leave immediately.

Melan turned on his heels and disappeared through the door.

Holding his head, Tanjin continued to sob. The sentence of the healer was worse than death. He was back to being the weak girl of the legend and he may never turn back to his wolf self. He finally understood. It wasn't so much that Galahad had surpassed him but that he was regressing. He had been lying to himself for years. He was still inclined to do so. He wanted to pretend none of this was real… That none of this was happening to him. He'd never heard of such things like woman bleeding on certain moons. He had been around women before. Maybe Melan lied to him. Maybe all he wanted was to hurt Tanjin. Maybe Melan hated him. That's it. Melan hated him.

Melan held a grudge against him. He needed to treat him like an enemy too. Just like Tristan… He could not trust them. Tanjin pushed the cap of the gold ring of his mother. The shell was empty since his days in jails. He still felt the urge to dab his finger in it before licking it clean. It was suffocating. These walls… This life… It all felt suffocating. He was burning.

The door opened slightly.

- I said… Go away…

- It is not Melan.

Tanjin turned. Amery fumbled with the doorknob and closed the door behind her. The blonde struggled to breath.

- Is it true?

Tanjin did not turn.

- Go away.

- Is it true? She said again, her lips trembling.

* * *

Melan ran for god knows how long. He did not know where to go. Tanjin was hurt. Tanjin was wounded so deeply he did not know where to start. How to help him? Someone had told Tanjin long ago that he should lie about himself. Someone had told him that as a girl he was worth nothing. He had a year and a half to ponder that fact. He knew but had not say anything even when they were about to sentence him to his death. Even when he was about to be whipped… Melan became like Tanjin. He was starting to live and accept this lie. He was willing to. Tanjin never acted like a girl. Yes, both of them like flowers. Both like to have their hair braided a certain way. Both alternated taking their baths alone. But Tanjin was not a girl. He was a boy. A prince. He was…

He was a confused girl. Melan was a confused boy himself. The red-haired took a deep breath. It was in his hands. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Amery walking into Galahad's room.

- You fought bravely. I was really scared though.

Galahad sighed.

- That we would kill each other.

- No, I was scared that you both get hurt. You would not believe I care for you both equally.

- Can you blame me?

Amery pursued her lips while Galahad continued on a bitter note.

- You said before you could not love. Maybe you meant to say that you could not love me.

- True. It was true at that time. But…

- Then it is probably true now too.

They stared at each other. She was hurt. She did not know why. But his words had hurt her even more than Duncan's. Why would he not believe her if he loves her?

- You do not love me anymore.

She struggled to talk and to breathe as if she could not bear the thought. Blue eyes softened slightly. He leaned slowly to kiss her. His lips caressed hers softly. She closed her eyes. She breathed in his scent moaning against his lips. It was so familiar. She appreciated how easy it was with him. Was it so bad that she happens to just love the way he kissed her? She's never been kissed that way. Gone was the clumsiness of the beginnings, he cupped her face with his hands and deepened the kiss. She let out a moan. He nuzzled her neck. She arched her back as he leaned forward to kiss and suckle her breast.

There was a knock at the door but they were both so absorbed in each other that they did not hear it.

Melan banged on the door louder.

- Please, Amery! I know you're here!

Galahad broke their embrace immediately and opened the door quickly.

- Amery! Amery, I need your help!

Her hands on her hips, Amery looked confusedly between Galahad and Melan.

* * *

She stepped bravely into the dark room. Tanjin did not move an inch. He did not offer an answer to a question.

- What are you?

She bit her lips. Honestly, it wasn't what she wanted to say. She was just walking on uneasy clouds here. She didn't know how she felt. Her face was hot in anger. A chill took residence on her neck. Tanjin was a girl. Tanjin was… How?

It occurred to her that he hadn't answer. She finally caught up with reality. Everything started to fall back into place. The sensation of his lips against hers… She flirted with him so many times since the trial and never had he shown any interest in her, except when he wanted to get back at Galahad.

She looked inside the large basin, surprised to see her reflection staring right back at her. The reflection never lied to her. She was pretty enough, blondish curls surrounding her face. There was just a glint of selfishness at the corner of eyes. She sighed. Water rippled over the surface. Well, Tanjin was a girl.

- I became a woman… It was all blurry back then. I had been with numerous men before that. It only confirmed what I was then. Some women think it's a curse. I asked Sylena for example and I can tell you she hates those moments. I didn't have a mother or a sister to explain to me what it all means though. I was scared. Very scared. I thought at first that it was it. I am dying.

While she talks, she started to roll up her sleeves. She lit a fire in the chimney.

- I was out working when it happened. I was close to tears by the time Vanora found me. She called me poor thing. She helped me bath. She gave me a broth. She stroked my hair. I only knew that now I was a woman.

She spilled flower petals in the dark water.

- She told me I was now gifted and cursed. I could give life now. That is the tricky part in being a woman Tanjin. You cannot have it both ways. I don't know if you can be both. As a woman, sometimes you're at the mercy of men. Sometimes they are stronger than you. You submit just to live to see another day. It is not that bad, you tell yourself. You're a woman. They are men. It is their world not yours.

Amery approached the bed.

- There are in this world weak woman like me. Indeed. But, they are women also like Vanora or Sylena. They do not submit and they make their own rules. They do not believe they should settle for less than they deserved. They will not quiver in front of a sword to protect their child. They are strong beings. They are mothers, Tanjin. They give life. Such a power, some higher beings had bestowed only in Women. No men can create life. He can only take it. Women can do both. They create Life. They changed the course of fate. Your mother was one of those women.

Tanjin slightly turned to face her, his face still in the shadows.

- It is an endless cycle. It's nature. You will learn to let your body do what it's supposed to do.

Tanjin rose slightly.

- It doesn't always hurt. I know of a girl who can't walk for a week. But she is a lazy little thing to begin with. I am indisposed but not sick. On those days, you can't work. It's inconvenient to do hard activities. Taking men to your bed may become awkward too. I just don't… Have you… Well, I don't… Anyway… I just try to keep myself clean and stay close to other women on those days. Women like to keep companies of other women. What else? I…

- I do not want this.

His hoarse voice surprised in the middle of monologue.

- You do not have a choice.

Green eyes brimming with tears, he stared in the depth of her soul.

- I am Tanjin. I don't know how to be anything else. I am the son of Attila. I am Talika's brother. I am my mother's son. I don't know what I am supposed to do now.

- Well… Well, I understand as I am Amery and no one else. It doesn't change who you are, who you grow to be, Tanjin. It doesn't change the name of your parent or your heritage. The color of your eyes… The way you smile when you're about to fight. It doesn't make you a better person. You will not become wiser. You will be selfish very much the same. You will stay Royalty. Most importantly, you will stay true to your blood. Essentially, it's all about the blood.

She smiled. Tanjin rose silently.

- I am tired.

- It's a little bit exhausting at first.

Looking at the ground, he began to unfasten his leather clothes slowly. Semi darkness engulfed both their shadows. The last of his clothes hit the ground and he stood in front of her fragile. Amery couldn't help but gasped at the sight of him. The tattoos framed on his back were themselves a lot to take in. Tanjin was really a girl. She almost expected Melan to have been mistaken. She indulged in a deep breath.

- It will be alright. She said finally.

Tanjin gasped as he climbed in the basin. The water slapped his body languidly, washing away tide after tide, in an endless motion that he really was.

Little girls were just good enough to make sweet wives and dedicated mothers. Hun laws were clear: A woman belong to her father, her brother, and her husband. Tanjin did not want to belong to anyone. His mother wanted more for. Whatever it was that made him human, he could only give death. He was only good at that. He was trained to do just that. He was the son of Attila. He knew he was opening a new chapter of his life, struggling to not let Tangwen out in the open. Not let her be possessed.

Amery stroke his hair in a soothing motion. The water took on a vague reddish color as blood streamed past his thighs.

Amery kissed his eyebrow. He closed his eyes. The gesture made him shudder but he did not push away. Discarding her initial anger at learning that she'd be deceived all this time, the girl was all empathy again, because Tanjin and her were so alike in their desire to live free in this world of men, she could only admire that. Tanjin and her were like the two faces of the same coin. They both were abandoned in this world with no sense, nor directions. They had to learn everything from scratch.

Tanjin stared at the water fixedly for what appeared like an eternity. He seemed lost in thoughts. The full moon gave half the room a silvery color. Tanjin sighed deeply.

- You said that I have to stay with women from now on.

Fatalism colored every word. His voice was shivering and weak. It was so unlike the Tanjin she knew. She realized Tanjin was really not made for this. She realized she wanted more for him. She understood clearly why Melan would keep such a secret. It was a matter of life and death.

- No, I… You don't have to. We only have to be careful at times.

He looked at her, confused. Amery closed her eyes, mulling over their options. They could tell Arthur and the others the truth. But what would happen then? Their behaviors would certainly change knowing the truth. Tanjin would certainly suffer from this. Arthur could even expel him from the cavalry. She couldn't imagine Tanjin being something other than a warrior.

- I will come to you every month. I will teach you how to be a woman on those occasions. You don't have to be miserable. All the things you need to know, I will teach you. At certain times, I will stay with you. She whispered. It will be our secret. Melan will keep his mouth shut too. He is to be trusted. Instead of going to Arthur, he came to me instead which had been the smartest thing to do.

- The smartest thing to do…

- You can stay a boy a little while longer.

Why would she do this? What did she want from him? Tanjin shifted uncomfortably in the bath. Some part of him could not Amery.

- I am not without motives.

Green eyes narrowed suspiciously.

- I am really interested in seeing the kind of woman Tanjin can become on a certain moon and I want you to stay my arrogant and handsome Prince Hun the rest of the time. I am very self-centered.

His lips twitched slightly. She smiled.

- You are not disgusted? He asked.

- Are you disgusted by me?

- Not… anymore. Not really. Tangwen said: "Not ever."

Amery's eyes grew wide.

- Tangwen?

- That is the name our mother gave her.

- Beautiful. She breathed. You are truly beautiful.

He shifted again in the bath. In a swift graceful motion, he grabbed her neck and kissed her lips softly.

- You are beautiful too, Amery.

It took the blonde by surprise how different and unfamiliar he suddenly was. Tangwen smiled coyly against her lips, very girlish and coy. Amery shivered slightly. She smiled in return.

Tanjin looked straight into the depth of Amery. He found out that this was not as repulsive as their first kiss.

Her hands full of flowers, Amery started to rub his back gently.

The raven croaked on the edge of the hole-in-the-wall. Silencing Melan with the palm of his right hand, holding the door with the other, Tristan saw again more than he wanted to see. More than he needed to see.


	18. Eastern Turmoil

**A/N:** Thank you Unearthing for your kind words! It's still amazing that after such a long time I still got at least one reader left. I know the lack of reviews can be the results of many factors. I am guilty. So, I honestly don't let it get to me. One of these factors, I believe is the route I took with the character itself. Tanjin is no "Lindsay falling in love with the knights" or no " Righteous Jade becoming a warrior to save her family from Rome". Before someone lunged at me, let me say I love a good "self-insertion" story like anybody else and I am not targeting anyone. But Tanjin is not easy to understand in one chapter. He definitly has "issues" with love. He has "issues" period. One of them, not the least, is the fact that "he" is not full-fledged boy just like Pinocchio. When I started in this fandom, I was a fan of **A Chosen Path**, or **Book of Memories**, or **Cerys at knight, **to quote just a few of my favorite KA mature stories. In each of theses stories, the female lead was always so strong, so fleshed out, the details wonderfully transcripted. When I started writing Tanjin, a million year ago, I knew I wanted him/her to stray from the "girl among the knight" trope and I wanted him to be just as fleshed out and complex, worthy of the wall of fame of the strongest heroins in the KA Fandom. I always strive to make my characters into human beings. I am not saying they are good human beings. I am not saying they will always take wise decisions. They won't always do smart things. I'm not even saying I succeed most of the time. People won't always identify with them. However what I wanted was for people to relate to them instead. So I was in tears in front of my screen after reading your comment. So Thank you so much ! I know there are other people who also read this story but don't comment. That's okay. Thank you guys!

* * *

18. Eastern Turmoil

Before Aloysius felt the first drop of rain on his cheek, he heard the scary rumbling of the thunder in the sky. The sun was setting behind the hill. He halted his horse and waited for the others to catch up with him. Three days ago, they were more than fifty on horses and two carriages of children. Now, barely half of that remained. They lost the carriages. He could only protect those who could ride. The children had to ride with their parents, the old with the young. They had no other choice.

- We should stop for the night. The children are tired. There is no way we will be able to cross the wood in the middle of the rain.

He turned toward his older sister. Yseult was sharing a horse with their little brother, Erasmus.

- We won't be crossing the wood.

- What? But…

- They are tailing us. We can't stop just yet. We have to make a detour. It would take even longer. We are almost there. Tell them to hold on a little longer. Tell the children we are almost there.

Yseult nodded with a defeated sigh, her blonde hair drenched from the rain. She refrained to tell Aloysius that they were children themselves. They did not have time to lament. Aloysius could not allow himself to doubt. In the absence of their father, he was the one in charge. Even though, he was younger than Yseult. He led the way. She trusted him. They all trusted him. Aloysius could read maps like no one. He was a gifted hunter at the age of 14 and military trained since he was six. Yseult, herself, could not despair. She did not have that luxury. She had Erasmus to care for now. Not so long ago, she and her mother had been busy preparing her wedding, now she was crossing the country, woads on her tail.

- Sire, we should send a scout ahead.

Hudd had been a member of the special guard of his father. He was a centurion, an experimented soldier, even a battle-harden one. Still, he could not erase the indelible traces of worry on his face.

- We can't spare any soldiers. If we were attacked again, we'd stand no chance.

- I know, Sire.

- Father said to go to the Great Wall to find Arthur. We cannot stop so close to our goal. We should keep going. Tell everybody to maintain the pace. Yseult, ride with me, Sister.

She nodded. They resumed their journey.

- Do you think we will really make it? She asked, her voice drowned by the storm.

Three days ago, Aloysius would have shrugged the question away. Of course, they'd make it. His father's men were the best he knew. But since, the woads had ambushed them twice and they'd lost countless men in the fight. So now he knew not to be too presumptuous.

- If we keep this pace, we have a chance.

- Do you believe father managed to hold them out?

He did not answer. Instead, he pushed his horse faster, taking the head of the convoy. His hair, golden like hers, soaked to his forehead. Hours later, they were riding in the dark, guiding by the faintest lantern under the rain, their only hope resting on the shoulder of a fourteen year old boy, and his ability to read maps.

* * *

Tristan closed the door as slowly as he could. He also stared at it longer than he should. Until then, the wench had never been anything but a nuisance. But to think… To think Tanjin entrusted her with his darkest secret. Tristan swallowed hard. Actually, it was really difficult to swallow. Not even sparing a glance to a very worried Melan, he retreated back to his room.

Lightning streaked the dark sky. Thunder echoed again in the valley. Rain poured heavily.

- Should we tell Arthur? Should we tell the others?

Tristan almost blasted the door to his room open on his haste to escape this particular noise. His room was as gloomy as it always been. Nothing seems able to catch his interests. Nothing could tear his thoughts from Tanjin and Amery. Nothing could silence his heartbeats. Before he knew it, he was outside again.

- Tristan?

Relying on his senses to guide him, he walked in the dark, seemingly without directions. He needed noises to drown the restless beating of his heart. Lights were coming from the commons where the knights usually gather. He followed it.

- Tristan? You were the one who said we had to keep this a secret. I only agree to…because I…

Tristan did not stop. However, Melan would not let himself be ignored. He broke into a run to catch him. Boldly, the young healer grabbed his arms. Tristan unsheathed his knife so quickly, it took Melan by surprise. The brunet only had time to duck the sudden attack.

- Tristan!

Tristan gave him a cold glare before sheathing his knife back in its case.

- They need to know what he is. It lasted long enough. Tristan… I can't even look Arthur in the eyes. I can't lie to the others anymore.

Tristan frowned. It was not that boy's fault. He knew that. Melan didn't make him furious, Tanjin did. Tanjin was not his anymore. Tanjin rejected him. He made sure his secret was not Tristan to keep. He made sure Tristan knew how much he hated him. He had made that very clear these past few months. Tanjin trusted that wench when Tristan had been dismissed. Tanjin was ready to open his heart to anybody but him.

In his opinion, in regard of his newfound wisdom, they should tell the knights, but also Jols, Vanora and Sylena too. They should hold a gathering so that the whole fort knew. They should tell the world the Prince Hun's little secret. Since as far as his highness was concerned anyway, anyone was worthy of his trust but Tristan. He took a beating for her. It was not enough. He wanted her gone. She needed to be gone because this he couldn't take.

- She needs to go.

He said out loud, barely recognizing the voice that could speak venom so clearly.

- I need her gone. She doesn't belong here. She needs to go.

Eyes shining with unshed tears, Melan gasped.

- Amery?

- She needs to go!

- No! You're not saying that! What? Why?

- Tell them. Then she would be gone.

Melan seemed conflicted. He didn't have that in mind when he was thinking of telling the truth. He did not want Tanjin gone.

- This is not what Tanjin would want.

- I don't care what he wants. Tristan shouted back. Why would I even care for what she wants?

- Tristan!

- Tell them the truth! I don't care! This has nothing to do with me.

- What truth?

Lancelot bellowed behind them, surprising them both. Tristan's eyes widened slightly as he realized they were having this argument in the middle of the courtyard. He started to walk back to his room. Abandoning the girl he was escorting back to his room, Lancelot marched towards them. He was before them before Tristan had time to entirely cross the yard.

- So, what was this truth that would get you so agitated before bedtime Tristan? Lancelot asked.

His eyes expertly went from Melan to Tristan. Surprisingly, it was Melan who answered first.

- Nothing really… We just… We were just… having a small quarrel.

Lancelot's eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

- A quarrel ?

- About…his daft bird ! Melan added.

Lancelot could not repress the smile tugging his lips. Tristan's bird? The subject of a discussion? Color him dubious! Who would believe that Melan of all people would be having an argument about a bird with none other than Tristan? What were the odds that when Lancelot woke up this morning, he would stumble upon such a scene? Lancelot turned to Tristan.

- Your bird? He asked.

Tristan only scowled. Rain started pouring more heavily, soaking their clothes.

- Or is there something else you want to share with a brother?

Tristan glared harder. Nope, Tristan was definitely not in a sharing mood. Lancelot sighed. Arthur was right. When had he ever been ? In a sharing mood, that is. He tried Melan again but the boy was studying the ground like he would find there the secret to eternal life.

- Let me guess, it has something to do with Tanjin.

Melan fidgeted awkwardly, his face a brazen shade of pink. It was not such a wild guess. I'm still good at that. So who's going to talk first. I am curious. Entertain me.

- It is none of your business, Lancelot.

Tristan took a step back. Lancelot took a step forward.

- Really? You would not share your sorrow with me. I am sad. You see, I promised myself that I will only kneel in front of a pompous roman magistrate once. So spill it, Tristan, my back is seriously starting to itch.

Tristan and Lancelot each gave the other uncompromising glares.

- I said it has nothing to do with you.

- Listen, I do not like this attitude of yours. I want…

A horn resounded faintly through the night cutting the conversation abruptly. Lancelot, Melan and Tristan froze in their tracks. Again, the horn was blown from nowhere. Another horn, this time, belonging to the fort, echoed the first one. They ran immediately to the battlements.

- Are we under attack? Melan asked breathless.

- That would be a foul move. Lancelot said.

Tristan shook his head.

- Too few.

Tristan stayed silent. In the dark, it was difficult to assess. It was too small a party for that. 20 horses at best, many of them with two riders, didn't make an army, especially an army bold enough to threaten the Great Wall of Hadrian. Lancelot could not see very well. He could only assess their number by the size of their torches. But, he agreed whole-heartedly with Tristan on that point. Nobody would attack Hadrian's Wall without an army of a thousand men at least thanks to Lancelot's reputation only.

- Riders ! Gawain shouted at the top of his lungs.

Galahad and Aggravain took turn and lean to see.

- Where are they from? Percival called out.

He was so drunk he could barely place a foot before the other. Blaez held a hand out to stabilize him as they join the rest of the company on the ramparts.

- I can't see anything. It's pitch black out there. Braden grumbled.

- Are we under attack? Because my lover is waiting for me. Bors announced.

- My lover is waiting for me too. Braden retorted.

Dagonet smiled.

- I don't have a lover, yet. But that brunet, Edora, looked like she wanted to be the mother to my children. Blaez said.

- Dorry? She totally looked like she was into me, cousin. Percival protested.

- That girl was Lancelot's. Gawain intervened. She is into anyone.

Lancelot grinned sheepishly.

- They are crazy. Riding in the middle of the night. At least they were smart enough to avoid the woods. Commented Duncan as he sat on the edge.

Danis sat next to him, playing nervously with his bracelets.

- It's like the devils are chasing them.

A horn was heard again.

- They're trying to locate the fort in this rain. Duncan said. Tell them, Lancelot!

- It's a Roman horn! Open the gate, Damascus ! Lancelot shouted. Damascus!

Damascus was the section chief in charge of the gates directly under the command of Tiberius. He was a decent roman, Lancelot would say. A poor gambler but a good customer. He always honors his debts which was not very common among romans. Unfortunately, Damascus was attached to orders and he was not the brightest of the bunch. So even though, he heard Lancelot, he chose to ignore his command. As long as no commanding officer gave him the order, the gates would stay close under his watch.

- Where is Arthur? Dagonet inquired.

- With Tiberius. Having Dinner. Lancelot responded.

- Quite the traitor! Blaez countered. Hope the food is good!

The woods were suddenly blazing in the darkness.

- What is that?

- Woads! What are they doing so close?

- They are about to cut their roads.

Eyes shining with excitement, Blaez called for Russ. Bors answered it.

- We should get out and march on them. Those fools!

Arthur and Tiberius arrived at the same time on the battlements.

- What's the situation, Lancelot?

- A party of twenty… We have reason to believe them roman. They're chased by blue demons.

- Open the Gate, Damascus! Arthur ordered.

- Do not open this gate !

Arthur and Tiberius exchanged hostile looks.

- That is probably exactly what they want. I will not jeopardize the security of the people living here to save just a few.

- Think Tiberius, the woads followed them here. They must be important.

Tiberius frowned.

- Trust me.

Tiberius sighed, defeated. Lancelot repressed a snort. They bickered like an old couple really.

- Ring the alarm! Open the gates ! Now!

The soldiers started to move. The deafening sound of the mechanism filled the night. It was too late. Flaming arrows set the sky on fire. Two riders were struck down on their respective mount.

Lancelot jumped down and ran to the stables. Tristan followed him.

- They will not make it ! Danis cried.

Arthur turned toward those who remained. He needed the best rider for this.

- Duncan?

- I'm up for this.

- Bors, Dagonet, Braden, Blaez, and Gawain, we're riding out.

- Where's Tanjin? That boy won't be happy if he missed a battle. Bors enquired.

- He is with Amery. Melan mumbled.

- Go fetch him. This is once in a lifetime. Blaez intervened. Okay, maybe not once in a lifetime seeing as we almost get killed so often! But I am sure the little bastard will take all the battles he can get.

- Hum… I'm not sure. He was busy when I left.

What was he saying? Melan bit his lips hard. Galahad froze in his tracks.

- I mean he… he was not feeling well tonight!

Too late, Galahad's jealousy was flaring up to dangerous proportions. Turning back, he glared at Melan. Gawain immediately grabbed the youngest.

- Come, Gal. Arthur is waiting. Ride out with us.

Galahad shrugged violently out of his grip and continued to the stables.

- Did you say Tanjin? The Hun got busy with Amery? Really? Way to go, Tanjin ! Percival let out an appreciative whistle before seeing the expression on Galahad's face. Oh! Sorry, Gal!

Melan swallowed hard. He was incapable of lying. He was so pathetic. Where was Tristan when you needed him? He barely had time to finish his thought that Tristan, Arthur and Lancelot and Duncan rode past him. Following shortly were Bors, Braden and Dagonet.

Melan sighed. He just wanted to bury himself under his pillow.

* * *

The rain stopped. Thunder rolled in the distance. Roman soldiers were everywhere. In battle formation, they readied themselves to a possible attack from the indigenous. They circled the yard, marched in rhythms, feet splashing in the mud. The courtyard was suddenly filled with horses, men and women. Resting on the curbs surrounding the courtyard, the knights studied the newcomers carefully.

Jols led the horses away to the stable.

Sweat and rain dribbling on his face, Duncan tried to catch his breath. He saved two kids out there. But to do that, he had to push Aurora and him to the maximum. Arthur patted his shoulder gently. Duncan did really well for his first outing. They all thought so.

Lancelot had a pretty thing in sight. She was gorgeous, a blonde, slender and fresh beauty. She was a noble. He had a nose for it. She looked like it. She also looked like she might want to be tainted. He had a knack to find the damsel in distress. He wondered how old she was and if she was already tied to someone. She fell into the arms of a young boy probably her kin as they shared the same hair color and the same nose as far as he could tell. He wanted to ask for Tristan's opinion when he remembered that Tristan and him… Well, let's just say, they were not on speaking terms right now.

- Speaking of angry knights, Galahad was in a hell of a mood. He stalked off without waiting for anyone. The crunchiest part was apparently it has everything to do with Tanjin. Apparently, the Hun Spawn was doing Amery behind Galahad's back. He had been for a while now. That's what Braden told him. He heard it from Percy. Percy was too drunk to be a reliable source but Blaez confirmed that Melan had seen it all. Was this the secret Tristan and Melan were trying to hide? Gods only know. He had to talk to the brat. That was not a nice thing to do to a brother. He also wanted details of the naughty, dirty, filthy variety. Lancelot had a busy night ahead of him for sure.

- Brother! We made it!

Lancelot turned to the naughty thing that talked. Damn, that girl was pretty.

They were not dead. That's the first rational thought Aloysius had as Yseult threw herself into his arms. He held onto her. It had been a close call.

He had tried to keep the caravan together as they travelled in the dark, calling the horn to get directions. When it started raining flaming arrows, he thought for sure they were done for. Hudd didn't make it. He took an arrow straight to his heart. They could not even retrieve his body in the dark.

Yseult cried on his shoulder. He patted her head gently. His people were well taken care of by the soldiers. He caught the eyes of a dark haired man watching Yseult and frowned. He did not know if he ought to be grateful or cautious right now. The legendary sarmatian cavalry sat in front of him. They looked like beast of men, ravenous and malevolent. He was worried for Yseult.

Aloysius did not feel the least bit relieved. The woads may have retreated. But he felt his existence was still in jeopardy.

- Who is your leader? Tiberius asked aloud.

- That would be me.

Tiberius eyed the boy suspiciously but said nothing.

- You are…

- Aloysius Olympus, I am the son of Commander Marcus Olympus.

Upon hearing this piece of information, Arthur left the rank of his knights to join them. Marcus Olympus was the commander of the fort of Epithelium. He was a friend of Arthur's father. Most importantly, he was the previous owner of Tanjin, the Prince Hun having been abandoned on his doorsteps by an old bishop.

- You must be Arthur. Father told us so much about you.

The girl nodded.

- What happened?

- It's quite a long tale.

- We have all night. Let's take it inside. Jols will make arrangements for your people. They will be well taken care of.

Aloysius stared at the funny round table. Why would a table take such a form? His father had told him about Arthur and Tiberius. Both were the youngest high-ranked officer in the whole province. Arthur was even more famous. He was the commander of the samartian Knights, the legendary cavalry. Yseult followed him inside as wary as him of her surroundings. Tiberius and Arthur came after them.

- You're on the way, boy. Bors grumbled.

Aloysius stepped out of the way, frowning. Yseult took a step behind her brother.

With an amused grin, Bors went to his seat. Braden and Dagonet nodded in acknowledgement. Danis went to his chair, nervously. He looked possessed by some kind of demon. Percival and Blaez eyed the boy and his sister before going to their chairs. Tristan did not spare them a glance. With an audible sigh, Duncan let himself fall in his chair and put his feet on the table. Melan nervously skipped to his chair wishing he was invisible at this very moment. Aggravain and Gawain entered, sharing the poor carcass of a roasted chicken hungrily. Callan and Andreas dropped beside them with a smile. Callan could sleep through a storm, Andreas through an ambush. Like some sort of divine joke, they shared a room and as a result were unable to help one another in emergency. They would probably die in their sleep one day. At least, Blaez wished they did for their own sake. Both brunets yawned unceremoniously.

- What did we miss?

Bors snorted. That was funny coming from Callan who missed every single good thing since the day he was born because of his laziness.

- Your mother making out with me! She is one nice lady!

- Screw you, Bors!

Tiberius stood next to the door, a bit intimidated. He did not have much contact with the knights since the trial. He knew they still held it against him. He could not blame them. If his friendship with Arthur did not suffer in appearance, things had changed around here since that day.

- Galahad and Tanjin? They are not joining?

- That's a funny story! Percival started.

- Please somebody stop him! Not that story again! Blaez grumbled.

A puzzled Arthur turned to Lancelot, freshly changed in a dry set of clothes.

- Let me tell him! I have to see Arthur's face! Percival continued with a drunken slur in his speech.

- Shut him up Blaez!

- You do it, Bors!

- Lancelot? What happened?

- I have nothing to do with this one and you really don't want to know.

Lancelot flashed Tristan a dirty look.

- Guess what? Tanjin… The Tanjin! Our Tanjin is doing Amery! Amery's Galahad! Melan caught them red-handed. And Galahad went berserk and swore to kill Tanjin when the sun will be up. If the sun ever goes up again! He is sulking now. And you know what? Tanjin is still doing Amery! What stamina!

- I never said I saw anything. Melan protested weakly.

- It's okay Melan. Don't feel guilty! It happened to the best of us!

- I stumbled upon Bors and Vanora so many times. I should be blind. Callan noted.

- Yeah! Instead, you're just lazy! Braden countered.

Everyone around the table laughed at that.

- Anyway! It's all a Greek tragedy, Commander! Please, let's talk about something other than that idiotic piece of eastern shit and his associate the whiniest samartian brat in all the empire! Blaez growled.

- Who's who? Asked Aggravain, visibly confused.

Those who had yet to hear the funny story, froze, eyes wide. Duncan, among this group, turned to Percival anxiously.

- He did what? Did you say with Amery? The buxom blonde Amery?

- Yup, our boy is all grown up. I feel like a proud father. Don't you Lancelot?

Lancelot rolled his eyes, very Tanjin-like. Arthur felt a headache coming. Tanjin and Amery? Things were going so fast. Too fast maybe. Tanjin was still young, too young to be having affairs with tavern girls. True, he was older than Galahad but still he was so…immature.

- Alright. The roman finally said.

What else could he say? Duncan grew pale by the minute. He needed to have a word with Melan now because surely this whole thing was a bad joke.

- She is like one of Lancelot's girl. Andreas noted.

- Yup, she is.

- Hey! Protested the man in question. No girl of mine would do such a thing.

- Lancelot…

- You know my girls. They don't do anything behind. They're really upfront about their dishonest ways. That's why they're my girls, you see!

- I knew this girl was trouble from the very first moment I saw her. Aggravain added.

Gawain scoffed.

- That's not true! You said she was sizzling hot. Hell, you said she has thighs like… a cow!

- Yes, she does. Aggravain said, all whimsical again.

- Do they have to be here? Aloysius asked suddenly.

Young Master Aloysius did not know what they were talking about nor did he care. He had better things, things more important to think about and they were annoying the hell out him. He could not understand how they could have such conversation with a lady in the room or worse how they could address their commander so freely and act so unruly in front of him. He had never witnessed such a thing.

The room felt quiet. Arthur turned to him. The attitude had earned Aloysius reproachful glare from the knights.

- Young master Aloysius, I do not have any secret for my comrades. If you must ask our help, we have to know what it is we will be fighting for. Now, we will listen to you.

Aloysius exchanged a look with his sister.

- Very well. I will introduce myself to you then. I… I am Aloysius and this is my sister Yseult. Our father, Marcus Olympus is the commander of the Fifth squadron of the Ninth legion posted in Epithelium.

- Epithelium? I know this name. Have we ever been there? Andreas pondered aloud.

- Marcus Olympus? Isn't that the pig captain that gave you Tanjin?

Of course, Aloysius saw red after that not so subtle comment.

- How did you call my father, ruffian!

- Percival, please apologize.

- Huh! Giving us Tanjin! Such a great gift that was! Blaez stated.

- Sorry, Commander! Do we like Marcus now?

Tiberius and Aloysius sent a glare in his direction.

- I guess we do now. Gawain said. So what happened to that nice man?

Andreas yawned.

- Don't mind them. Continue.

Yseult decided to carry on for her brother.

- It all started many months ago. My mother and I were busy preparing my wedding which was supposed to take place at the end of the summer.

- That's unfortunate. Lancelot intervened. That's so sad. So very sad. How old are you, my fairest?

Yseult blushed. Arthur gave Lancelot a dirty look. Aloysius pursued his lips and went on.

- The picts… The woads... Until a few months ago, our father had always managed to keep peace with them.

- Peace? Is that what they call it these days? Duncan retorted, tired of the hypocrisy.

He was tired with sitting here doing nothing while Tanjin was sleeping with that treacherous bitch.

- We lived in peace! Yseult retorted. Now and then, it is true that my father had to extinguish a fire or two with Aud, their leader, but mostly we were at peace. Aud, their leader, had met with my father a few times for negotiations. The soldiers had orders to never enter their territories without permissions. But at the end of last winter, they got bolder. Seven days ago, father sent a scout here.

- Well, he'd never arrived! Maybe he got lost on his way here ! Lancelot remarked.

- He was killed. His head was left on our doorsteps. It was horrible. Yseult cried.

- Four days ago, they attacked in large numbers. More than three hundred at least... This raid was like anything we'd ever seen before. It was well-organized. They killed one hundred and fifty soldiers, pillaged one of the villages on the border, and...

- They kidnapped our mother!

- Yseult !

- I can't bear the thought… They took her… Just… She was gone!

- They took our mother hostage. Then the raiding went on, rough, cruel, ruthless. They killed many daily. There was nothing our troop could do. It was a massacre. That's when Father decided to evacuate everyone. He said it was our best chance. He said he would try to hold them back with what was left of the legendary Ninth legion, roughly 80 soldiers. We travelled for three days. We were more than a hundred. Two carriages, fifty on horses, the rest on foot. They followed us, intent on leaving none alive. They ambushed us many times. I've never seen such savagery.

- Is there an end to this story? Blaez mumbled to Percival who shrugged.

It was not that Blaez was that insensitive to be honest, no, he was just really exhausted. Callan, on the other side, was less scrupulous as he fell asleep on Andreas's shoulder. Like Andreas, whose eyes were barely open, Callan was not an evening person to begin with. He was sure Arthur knew that. It wasn't that this story wasn't touching and everything but where was christian good manners when you needed them. Couldn't this have waited daybreak?

Tiberius, for once, shared the impatience of the samartians. There was nothing they could do now.

- I see. You are welcome to stay here as long as…

- That's not it. I have to go back. I promised father that I will come back. I will take any man that you could lend me, Captain Tiberius.

Blaez opened one eye. Tristan stopped looking at the ceiling. Lancelot stopped looking at the girl and Arthur sighed.

- For a suicide mission! This kid got a pair we can give him that. Bors noted.

- Almost as big as yours, can we go to sleep now? Andreas growled.

Arthur went on.

- If I understand correctly, you want to go back there as soon as possible. Do you think there is a chance for Marcus to be alive?

- My father would never go down without a fight.

- That doesn't mean he is not already down and dead. Lancelot remarked dryly.

An awkward silence ensued.

- Very well, let's not get distracted with dark thoughts. We will see much clearer in the morning. Tiberius finally said.

Blaez sighed deeply.

- Oh I think I never thought I would say this once, but thank you, Captain Tiberius, for your wise words.

* * *

Daylight certainly brought more clarity to the debate but no definitive strategy. Aloysius pleaded his case again, this time, without Yseult.

Tiberius was quite reserved. In the morning, he sent a request for reinforcements in the four other outposts. It would take days for them to arrive, if they arrive at all. Last winter, Curtius had warned him against using too many resources as Rome won't look twice in Britannia's direction. The empire's foundation was unsteady.

Tiberius had four hundred men under his commands, which made Hadrian's wall paradoxically the smallest station in Britannia. So, he could not spare a hundred men without guarantee. He didn't receive any orders from his superiors. As impressed as he was with the way, Aloysius handled things; he wasn't about to risk losing his own station just to save a fellow commander who by all means may be already dead. He could see Arthur was more than open for an intervention of the cavalry though.

The truth he did not want to voice out loud was that if anything Aloysius is true, Epithelium was to be considered lost. It was Woads territories now. By evacuating the whole fort, Marcus admitted defeat somehow. Tiberius couldn't send soldiers in woad territory just like that.

At least, Arthur said nothing. He did not make any light promises. He appreciated that. There was no need to get the boy's hope up too much. This was more complex a matter than that.

He exchanged silent words of agreement with his old friend, before he left the commons with Aloysius to have lunch with Salva and Yseult. They were staying in his house as they were no suitable room left in the fort.

Tiberius was right. Arthur felt like helping Aloysius. He felt somehow indebted to Marcus and was set on making things right. But he was also preoccupied. Things were starting to get a bit out of hands here. Lancelot followed him in the strategy room and said nothing when he closed the door behind them.

- Where is Tanjin ? Why was he not here? And someone has to talk to Galahad! He was worse than his usual self. He was downright rude and disrespectful today. If he ever talks to me that way again…

- For his Highness, Melan said he was still sick. As for Galahad, the flaws in his character are more than legion. They are particularly solid and unbending on certain days.

- He is supposed to be sick but he will not see the healer! And he barricaded himself with Amery! That wanton little vixen! She is to be held accountable for her actions! What are they doing in that room that takes days to be accomplished?

Arthur growled, clearly unhappy with the turn of event.

- You don't look happy. Lancelot commented ironically.

- I sense trouble.

- And a whip? You're sensing the whip too, right?

- It will not be an easy mission.

- If we take the mission at all...

- Lancelot, we can't just abandon Marcus. What if he managed to hold the fort together… What if he was waiting for us… We can't just… leave him be.

- But what if he is dead, we will run into a trap. You may recall that Epithelium is ensnared between Woad territories and the Dark forest of Broceliande… which is Morrigans' ground, no better.

- They are a legend. You. Know. Better. Lancelot.

- I don't wish to visit Finn in the afterlife.

- I did not think Danis and you shared so many similarities.

- Our Danis may be a religious fanatic. But we can always use his sixth sense for smelling danger.

Arthur laughed at that.

- Lancelot…

- Tanjin and Galahad. Tanjin and Tristan. Tristan and Duncan. Tristan and the rest of the world. The list goes on. We are not a brotherhood right now. We will get killed for sure. We cannot travel like this.

- Should we leave them behind?

- Are you crazy? What happened last time we left Tanjin and Gal behind?

- I am just saying… Argh! That boy!

- Thank Marcus! Why do we have to save his roman ass anyway? He will not be missed. Not by me at least.

Arthur sighed.

- Well, I said we need all the hands we can. We have to get Tanjin and Galahad to behave.

- I know. I've never seen Galahad this angry before. He is young. He will find another girl with time.

- He may not be thinking that far yet.

- Tanjin… I don't know what possessed him honestly! I know he is not that dumb!

- We were at that age too.

- You never left that age, Lancelot.

- You never entered it such a shame!

- We will leave in a week or two depending on Tiberius. Tell Jols to make preparations. We will be gone for weeks.

- Oh ! I hate that forest. If I die in those woods, you have to bring me back here. No way, I will be staying with Finn there.

- Like you, the best warrior, would be so easily defeated.

- That's right. Good point !

- If Tanjin ever get out of that room, please go talk to him, and Galahad too. I will take Tristan and Duncan.

- Arthur, you're so brave!

- Then, you take Tristan and Duncan!

- No need, I'm good with brats.

* * *

Until now, Lancelot believed he would make a wonderful father to some very lucky child someday. Until now, he thought he was amazing with children. He practically raised the Prince Hun from a filthy egotistical violent barbarian spawn to an almost decent human being who bathes on occasions. Now, Lancelot wasn't sure he ever wanted to be a father to begin with. Lancelot sighed as he stood next to the Hun's door. He didn't remember a day when that boy didn't give him unnecessary worry.

He crossed his arms on his chest. He had decided today that he needed to change strategy so he did not knock this time.

Three more days went by since Arthur and Lancelot had that conversation in the strategy room. Lancelot caught up easily with Galahad.

A number of times.

No need to lie, on both occasions the conversations did not go well. Galahad was furious with Tanjin with valid reasons of course. Not only, Tanjin stole Amery from him but he's been monopolizing her ever since. He could not give Gal a single reason for him not to want to sock the Hun in the head. Hell, he was very tempted to do so right now. Knocking, shouting, cursing took him nowhere with Tanjin. He tried ruse via Melan. He also tried violence. This door was pretty damn heavy. His left shoulder was still bruised. That damn brat refused stubbornly to open the door and he kept on screwing that girl's brain daily without an ounce of integrity.

What a bloody mess! This story had only one character. It was a girl. Knights don't fight about women. He was pretty sure there was a rule somewhere. They never fought about a girl. He may have had affection for Vanora when he was still young and inexperienced but he knew better than to approach her. Okay, he did approach her once but she rejected him. And Sylena laughed in his drunken face too many time for counts. What was wrong with Amery?

As pretty as she was, they all knew better. Galahad had the kind of puppy dog everlasting love that you only experienced once in a lifetime. All the knights saw it! He knew that Tanjin, that ruthless little bastard, saw it too. He was definitely not that oblivious and innocent. He could have totally given it a rest after the first go.

After solid interrogation, Sylena admitted that Amery came to see her every day this week and that she provided her with food and clothes. Lancelot was reassured then that those two were very much alive in there. He did not know what was worse. That she could go back to him even knowing the fort was in an uproar because of their affair. It was all the knights ever talk about these days. They were not the only one. Maybe the worse was the fact that lascivious treacherous wench managed to sneak in and out of that room just under their noses, going unnoticed for days. He just had to be patient and wait for her. He would put a stop to this nonsense. Feeling like a cat chasing a mouse, he waited patiently for his momentum.

Arthur actually had more luck than him. Duncan swore that he did not mean anyone harm and that he was ready for the next mission. Tristan was not very talkative as always but he did say he was done talking to Tanjin at all. The important fact is that those two understood the importance of having each other's back. They were older and a little bit wiser. So what was Lancelot thinking when he chose the brats?

Gawain passed by, carrying a plate of food. Munching on a carrot, he gave Lancelot a quizzical look. Gawain's life was not easy when Galahad was miserable. The blonde was rarely seen frowning. But like a lot of people these days, he was not too happy with a certain duo. Well, they should all wait in line because Lancelot was going first. Lancelot gestured to his mouth and the door. Gawain made no noise.

Lancelot had to make sure Tanjin was ready for battle as soon as possible. There was no predicting what he will think about having to go back to Epithelium where he had such unhappy memories. That was dangerous in itself sending him back there.

It was settled however. They were leaving tomorrow. There was no time left.

The knights will go ahead with the addition of fifty men led by Aloysius. That was not nearly enough. He was not naïve. They may not come back from this. Tiberius will remain here and wait for words from the other forts before sending reinforcements. So, there was no time to be wasting. Lancelot had way better things to do than watching other Tanjin. He could be training with the others. He could also be burying his sorrow into a brunet or a blonde. It was almost noon.

At last, Lancelot heard something move inside. Gawain was also startled out of his reverie. She was coming out. Furniture scraped the floor with more insistence.

Or maybe they were getting it on.

Again.

No.

He heard distinct footsteps. Lancelot clenched his fists. He was so ready to kick some sense into that boy. Without a noise, the latch was turned slowly from the inside. The latch did not make a noise. She was a piece of work, that girl! Gawain disappeared from view. That boy had quite the knack for this too. Come on, little lamb! Come to me! Lancelot thought.

He slid soundlessly against the wall. The door opened slightly. He heard muffled noises again and a whisper. The smell of roses wafted through the door. No kidding. Tanjin even knew how to install a mood. Who taught him that? The door was shut again. A clear laugh rang in the air. Gosh, let that poor girl go, you bloody bastard! When Tanjin told him about his insatiable brother, Keda, he never thought it could be a family trait. But after all, Attila had sired more sons and daughters than there was flowers in the garden of the Pope in Rome. He could have supernatural powers in that department for all Lancelot knew. Little Amery fumbled again with the door knobs. Blonde curls glided through the doors. She risked her sneaky little head outside. Sneaky little bitch!

- I will be back…

She did not have time to finish a sentence that Lancelot grabbed her and pushed her in Gawain's arms. She screamed. But it was too late, Lancelot let himself in. He ducked just in time to avoid a flying stool. The stool crashed against the wall. That room smelled like flowers and… something else. Blood… Maybe… Heavy love making… That was probably it.

Tanjin moved so fast as always. He was behind Lancelot in an instant. Lancelot ducked again in time. Thank gods for his instinct! Losing balance, he knocked the basin of water with a thud. Tanjin walked on the wall like some inhuman monster before he jumped in the air again. This time, Lancelot was ready to catch his small frame. He seized the waist of his protégé more firmly, lifted him easily, and pushed him on the bed.

- Tanjin! Stop it!

- Let me go! Let me go! Let me go! I swear! Let go!

Green orbs stared at him as if possessed.

- Are you crazy again? What is wrong with you?

- Don't touch me! Don't ever touch me!

There was fear there. Green fear. As soon as Lancelot realized, he let go immediately and stood back. Tanjin scrambled out of the way. Fast, he shifted position and assumed a defensive stance on the edge of the bed. Hair disheveled, eyes wild, he looked like he was just out of bed. His undershirt was all over the place, exposing a tan shoulder. His eyes locked on Lancelot, Tanjin grabbed his leather vest on the floor. Lancelot turned around with a sigh.

- Do you always have to be such a drama queen?

- What do you want? Tanjin growled as he finished dressing.

- Are you really asking me that?

Tanjin stared at him, eyes wide. It was worse. Lancelot could see no guilt in those eyes, no barely hidden malice, he truly looked innocent.

- You have really no idea what you've done.

Tanjin's eyes narrowed. Okay, how should this conversation go? Lancelot scratched his head.

- Tanjin, it's been days. You've barricaded yourself here. Does that mean the rest of the world could go to hell and stop exist? You stopped eating with us. You stopped meeting with us. You stopped training.

He had the nerve to look apologetic.

- I apologize. I was feeling unwell.

- Tanjin, do not lie to me. Lancelot admonished sternly.

- I am not lying. I swear!

- I will stop you now. Amery was here. She was here all this time while you were sick. She was here nursing you back to health like a devoted nightingale.

For the love of honey cake and wine, Tanjin could not see what was wrong with that. He opened his mouth to close it again. Then, swallowing his pride, he admitted:

- She is my friend.

- Oh you are friends now! That's new! Alright! That certainly makes everything better!

- Why are you so mad, Lancelot? He asked, pursing his lips.

Lancelot's eyebrows twitched slightly. Someone had a bloody sense of humor.

- Let's see! I asked you to come out many time in the past few days and you blatantly ignored me.

Tanjin awkwardly stared into space. That he was guilty of.

- Listen, I did not feel well. I don't think I have to apologize for that.

Gone was the apologetic look, he was back to be his stubborn arrogant self.

- So it took you three days to get back to health. Still, you refused to see a healer.

- I do not like those. It is my choice, Lancelot. I do as I please.

This last sentence rubbed Lancelot in all the wrong ways. So he practically shouted his response, surprising the Prince Hun with the violence of his outburst.

- It is not YOUR choice, Tanjin! I told you before! You are not the only one here! You are NO LONGER alone and every action HAVE consequences on our lives, as such you must THINK before you act!

- I needed time alone.

- Why are you denying the fact that you stole her? You could not help yourself and you betrayed Galahad. This is not how we do things around here. You knew that it would hurt him. Still, you did it anyway just to spite him. That is wrong, Tanjin.

Tanjin frowned.

- I…

Honestly, he didn't know where this conversation was going. He betrayed Galahad? He hurt Galahad? What does this idiot have to do with anything? He sat down, no longer in a fighting mood, trying to process Lancelot's words.

- Do you understand now?

Not really, his Highness wanted to say. He stayed quiet though. Just like when Keda was giving him grief about something he did not do, Tanjin pretended to understand and to have learn his lessons well. Lancelot plopped himself unceremoniously beside him. The older knight heaved a sigh.

- I never wanted to hurt Galahad...

Lancelot stared at him from the corner of his eyes. Tanjin rolled his eyes just like the famous King of the Huns.

- …Other than on the field.

His lips twitched mischievously. Lancelot smiled back. That was more like the honest truth.

- He is really upset, you know.

Tanjin understood now. It finally dawned on him that during the whole conversation Lancelot had not for once doubted he was a boy…. Even after he caught him half-naked. So if they thought he was a boy, it was pretty logical that they also believed he had an inappropriate relationship with the girl he spent his nights with these past few days. Oh Gods! For some reason, Lancelot was convinced, he did… that. He means…this. Or better… The thing… That he "slept" with Amery. Tanjin almost wanted to laugh out loud if it wasn't such a ridiculous and a revolting idea. Like he could ever do that…with someone… Ever… Bleh! So disgusting!

However as far as Lancelot was concerned, Tanjin was a fifteen year old boy full of incomprehensible hormones.

And in a way he was.

Green eyes shimmered slightly, he scowled at Lancelot. Lancelot took that for a rebuttal.

- Come now, you know what you did was wrong, Tanjin. I know there some part of you somewhere who knows right from wrong. I taught you better than that.

- You are a drama queen, Lancelot.

- You will have to sort his out with him. That's an order. It is the right thing to do.

Tanjin was dubious. What was supposed to be right in this situation? What was wrong? He was conflicted. The need to preserve his identity, what he was, had always prevailed on everything else. Always. He was Tanjin, the son of Attila. He could not be known to be anything else.

Galahad will get over it. He had to. Tanjin was older than him. There was no way he could apologize.

- Hey, it's not like she is his property! I am way older. He should respect me more! He groaned.

His teeth gleamed sharply. Lancelot's eyes narrowed. What was this logic? He would never apologize to Galahad simply because he was older. That thickheaded heartless pintsized bully! He was the devil's son. Where was that pure innocent heart he saw a glimpse of just a minute ago?

Tanjin stared at Lancelot.

Why should he apologize to that brat? It's not like he "took" Amery by force. It's not like he "took" her anyway. He was also above explaining himself. It's not like they did anything she did not agree to. He did not have to apologize. It has nothing to do with him. It would only teach Galahad to be wiser. He would learn to distribute his affections more parsimoniously. He could do that to him as a good brother. He would make a duty of teaching him the harsh reality of life!

Suddenly, Lancelot slapped his face for not noticing how much the little bastard enjoyed this.

- Wait a minute! I see! It's a Hun thing! Tanjin, look at me! In Hun lore, what's the rule? What would Attila say?

Tanjin looked somewhere else. What would Attila say? Better not think about that…What would Keda say? He would probably rant exactly like Lancelot. Though, the two of them did worse on a daily basis. Do as I say not what I do. That was their motto.

Arms above his head, he stretched on his tip-toes.

- There's no rule! Not really! I do anything I please. I am older, smarter, wiser, and stronger. Of course, I don't need to apologize to that ant. He is just that to me. An ant.

Lancelot massaged his forehead. That boy was such a headache!

- I am serious. I want you to end this with him now. And this thing with Amery, whatever it is, forget it !

Tanjin shrugged.

- No. You have no choice in the matter. I leave you no choice. We are leaving tomorrow.

The smile disappeared immediately. Confusion marred his face.

- Where?

- Maybe if you came to the meetings… We're going to Epithelium to save that bastard Marcus Olympus.

Green eyes glowered with unrestrained fury. His mischievous grin was gone for good. Lost in memories, Tanjin stared in the distance. Lancelot sighed.

He got up and patted Tanjin's unruly dark mane.

- I thought so.


	19. Goddess of Discord

**Chapter 19 **

Goddess of Discord

Plates crashed on the floor, the contents forever wasted. As Amery was abruptly pushed in Gawain's arms, she struggled to regain her freedom. She was at a disadvantage as the other blonde had a firm grip on her waist. But fate was on her side. Gawain tripped. They were on the floor before he could make an attempt to regain his footing. She was suddenly free to run and to yell hysterically.

Clueless, Gawain grabbed her naked ankle. Amery let out another ear-shattering scream. He took his hands off her immediately and glared at the girl, clearly annoyed. They both sat there, trying to catch their breath.

- What will he do to her?! She cried.

- What?

Gawain frowned. She managed to confuse him again. Was she insane? Did Tanjin's insanity finally get to her? Amery stared at him intently, tears blurring her eyes.

- Tanjin is with Lancelot. There is no way Lancelot would hurt him… if he behave. So would you stop this?

Amery held her beating chest tight. She almost wanted to sigh in relief. They did not know. She had not failed him. She did not fail her. His secret was still safe.

- What happened to you?

Gawain's blue eyes flashed with barely restrained anger. It was like he remembered all of a sudden how this mess started to begin with.

- I don't understand.

- Something tells me you know. You're anything but stupid, Amery.

- It is not what you think it is.

- Really, to me, Amery, it seems like you love playing with fire just like Blaez.

- I don't.

- Oh don't give me that! You know what they're saying.

Amery scrambled back to her feet, her face flushed. Gawain stood up.

- You misled Galahad.

- I did not.

- He adored you. He even talked about marrying you. He couldn't shut up about you.

Her lips quivered lightly. Wet tears streaked her cheeks. She avoided his eyes. Gawain was somehow right in one thing. After that "first night" she spent with Tanjin, she was aware of what they were saying at the tavern. Words travelled fast around here. She knew Galahad was devastated. Still, she made a vow to Tanjin. She kept coming back with food and clothes. She kept sneaking back in his room, knowing they would never understand.

She wanted to meet her again and again.

Tangwen that is.

_At first, Amery was confused. She was even scared. There was something unearthly about him. Some kind of preternatural shadows who veiled him from prying eyes, but if one were to look hard enough, it could find her… In his eyes… his bone structure… His lips… She was everywhere. _

_Tangwen that is._

_It was a complete entity on her own. It was like Gods had gifted the Hun with two souls. Amery was taught on that first night to notice the change. One moment, Tanjin was him. Then, his consciousness slipped away and he spoke with a voice not his own. His eyes shone differently. Dark unruly curls fell onto his face lazily. He tilted his head on the side. He sighed. _

_She was her. _

- _Summer is the best time in the year. Tanjin loves winter though. We don't have to bathe as often. I love summer. We would go fishing with Talika or hunting with Keda. Honey cake is best made in summer. _

_Amery laughed at that. _

- _Tell me more about your home. _

_They rolled on the bed, shifting positions. Tanjin loved to lounge lazily across the cot, head upside down, his feet on the wall. _

- _What do you want to know? There would be too much to tell. _

_It was his voice again, hoarse and rugged. His demeanor was not poised like before. He was back to being himself. Though, he was a Tanjin she barely knew, less guarded. He seemed content just to lie there with her. He grabbed a fistful of chicken on a plate on the floor. Amery had gone to great lengths to get that roasted chicken. She was almost sad to see it go so fast. Boy, he was so messy. Prior to meeting a certain Hun Prince, Amery assumed every noble behave in a sophisticated manner, rinsing their fingertips before eating, sweeping their faces when they sweat, never farting. Well, etiquette was not a priority in Hun society. Or maybe, it was the way it was supposed to be. It would be funny if he had been taught to fart while licking his hands. Maybe Attila did that too. Maybe she should ask. _

- _Anything. Everything. I want to know everything. _

- _Chicken were bigger there. _

_Tanjin had a sense of humor. That was Lancelot's fault. _

- _You don't know what I did to get this. I could have come back with a basket of peach and apples or better, empty-handed. But I came with meat which I know you absolutely love...even raw. You could be grateful, my lord. I'm sure there is a Hun word for it. What is it? _

- _You're maddening just like a wolf on milk. _

_Tanjin spoke with words she barely understood. _

- _What? What was that? Hunnish? I want to learn. _

_He looked at her with an inch of condescension when in truth it was more that he had no idea how to teach someone anything, especially another language. In his case, he just spoke hunnish. He never asked why. He spoke the other languages as well._

_ It was natural, uncomplicated, unlike learning how to decipher the scribbles of men. Reading was a pain. _

_Tanjin growled slightly and held out a hand. She stared dumbfounded at his grimy, greasy, boney fingers extending a piece of meat in her direction. _

- _Here, eat. I allow you. _

_He allowed her to eat what she brought. Oh Tanjin! _

_She laughed. Then she finally leaned in and snatched the meat with her teeth. Tanjin frowned. Why would she laugh? _

_In truth, Tanjin meant to say he allowed her to feed from his fingers, a privilege the Hun only bestowed on those who were the closest to them. His mother used to be fed like this by Attila himself. As his older brothers, Keda and Talika fed him too. He'd never fed anyone. He was never older and responsible for anyone before. _

- _What is it? _

- _You're so funny all royalty like. I cannot doubt for one moment you must have made your poor subjects miserable, you tyrant. Why did you not succeed your father? _

_Green eyes spread wide again. He was frozen solid against her. He was lost to her the moment she evoked Attila's succession. That particular topic only brought back sad memories for him. She bit her lips anxiously, berating herself for her own stupidity. Of course, he could not replace his father. He said he was the youngest of his many brothers and sisters. _

- _Tanjin. _

- _We hurt. She heard a soft voice said. It hurts Tanjin the most the way Attila stared at him before... He was the youngest. Unable to be of use. Unable to protect. He was a hindrance. His mixed blood. His corrupted blood. This madness. The madness was his fault, Father said. He was unnatural. Not worthy. He never looked at Tanjin again. He closed his eyes. He was dead to the tribe. Tanjin. Dead. Do not exist. Dead. _

_Amery leaned more. The female voice fainted within Tanjin. He stared at the ceiling motionless. _

- _What was his fault? What was your fault? _

- _His death. Came the soft whisper again. _

- _Whose death? _

_His answer came out gruff and throaty. It was a wail. _

- _Keda. Keda died because of me. Home. There was no home anymore for us. It was my fault. _

_Tears blurred his vision. Tanjin growled low, a very guttural sound. Amery felt her own cheek moisten. She did not know what to do. She took his hand in hers. _

- _Tanjin. It is alright. You are home now._

_She crawled beside him, blond and dark tresses interlaced and mingled. _

- _We are all home. This is home. _

They shared so much in such a short time. She learned things about herself. The awkwardness she felt when she was with Galahad was gone. She was never nervous next to Tanjin. She did not have to pretend next to him. They shared the same loneliness, the same guilt, the same darkness. Galahad could not compare as he was such a pure being. She was undeserving of Galahad's kindness. She was undeserving of his love. She felt close to Tanjin. She understood now that the attraction she felt as they first met was not carnal. It was untainted. The only thing pure in this darkness. She did not need protection. She wanted to protect. Sometimes, she would fall asleep next to Tangwen and then would wake up next to Tanjin. It did not feel dirty for once. It did not feel wrong. She could spend her days like this. Galahad… Well, she was trying to process what she felt for him but it hurts deep inside just to think about it. He was the most righteous man she knows. Despite his youth, she could see his heart was filled with great ideals. He was honest and… so much better than her. She did not want to hurt him.

- You had your fun with Tanjin. You had your fun with both of them.

Unshed tears blurred her vision.

- You are a liar and a despicable whore. You have barely any moral left at the end of the day. I never thought for a second I would say this to anyone. But you truly disgust me, Amery.

- Gawain… It's not… I'm sorry.

He pushed her back violently before warning her.

- Go away. Go. Away. If you ever come near Galahad or Tanjin again, you will be sorry, I promise you! I am warning you.

Amery stepped back slowly.

- This. I did not want this. Please listen.

- Leave now!

Galahad heard the rumble upstairs. But it wasn't until he heard Gawain raised his voice that he got up from the bed. For Gawain to raise his voice, it meant that something really bad happened. Gawain rarely ever got angry. He was always in the same mood and always the first to crack a smile. So when his heavy voice resonated through the wall, Galahad shivered slightly. He opened the door of the room he shared with the brothers. He heard hasty footsteps and was fully prepare for Aggravain to run in his direction to find shelter. Instead, he saw her, her blonde hair trailing behind her.

Crying.

She turned in a flurry of robes and faced him. Galahad swallowed hard. He imagined that now that Tanjin had defiled her, he would find her tainted and undesirable. But she was still the same Amery, the girl who leaned over his shoulder at the tavern and kissed his neck. The only girl he had ever been with. The only one he had ever loved. She possessed him. Time froze as their eyes met. His heart collided against hers. She was still breathtakingly beautiful even more so now that they stood opposite each other.

- Leave!

Gawain's voice echoed from the balcony. His heart skipped her beat. His hands clenched on the door.

He could...

Maybe talk to her…

Maybe she had an explanation…

Maybe Tanjin forced himself on her…

She took the decision for him. She turned on her heels and ran away. Melan, who walked along Duncan, tried to stop her but she evaded any of his attempts. Duncan grabbed Melan stopping him before he actually went after her.

Galahad stepped away from the door and crawled against the wall, his knees against his chest. He felt miserable. Tears ran down his face before he knew it. What he felt right now? Even he could not explain it. His heart if he had one was in pieces. He felt like Tanjin had stepped on his chest and laughed in his face. He felt betrayed. Like the Hun had broken the silent truce they had. He wanted to go to war.

Something bumped suddenly against the door. In fact, it was a fist. His hands clenching the door, Tanjin stood there breathless. In the background, Lancelot, Gawain, Duncan and Melan remained at a reasonable distance.

- Did you just let her go, you bloody bastard? Listen, you still have her. She is just a…

Galahad got up slowly and silenced the Hun with a pointed finger. What was he about to say? That she was just a whore! That it didn't matter! That she didn't matter! Galahad felt like killing him just because he had the nerve to show his face.

- Step away from me.

Tanjin frowned.

- What did you say?

- I said get away from me!

Tanjin stared him down and rolled his eyes. How did he dare look down on him? How could he talk to him that way! That samartian little dwarf!

- I came to apologize. Frankly, you do not deserve it. You're an idiot. For losing her in the first place… But as the oldest…

Before Tanjin knew, he was swiftly lifted off his feet and smashed against the wall. Galahad had his left arm on Tanjin's trachea blocking his airways. Galahad held him there and put so much strength, his tiny girlish feet barely touched the floor. Green eyes opened wide in astonishment.

Gawain and Melan winced behind them but Lancelot stopped them from intervening. They needed to sort this out now.

- You need to listen to me carefully, Tanjin.

Tanjin groaned. He was mad.

Galahad was mad too.

They were both delirious like two predators stepping into each other's territories, threatening the other's safety. It was nor rational nor pretty.

Unrestrained in his anger, Tanjin cursed Galahad dearly. Galahad had dared touch him. Galahad. Tiny Galahad. Oh, it was a matter of second before he punched that Samartian face into the concrete wall. Just give him a minute or so… and Galahad would be dead in the ground.

- Let go now or I swear I will make you wish for a quick death!

- Not a word, you fiend. Or they will be your last.

Tanjin stood at a loss for words. It was not the violence in itself; it was the coldness in his tone. How dare he speak to him like that!

- Listen to me. I will not fight with you. You are not worth it. You are just so damn ugly inside. I will erase you from my life. I will forget you. You do not exist anymore. I don't want to cross path with you ever again. If I do, you will be invisible to me… Because… Because… You are dead to me, Tanjin.

_Dead to the tribe. _

_Dead._

_Dead to me._

_Dead_.

Dead to us.

For the first time, facing Galahad the Youngest, unshed tears gathered in his eyes. Tanjin shrugged Galahad away with a groan. He could… He could not cry. He would not cry. Men don't cry. Galahad retaliated and he found himself in the hallways. They stood face to face.

- You… You don't have a right to do that. You can't…

Galahad stared blankly.

- Galahad…

Galahad did not answer. He made no indication he was seeing the boy in front of him. He was completely detached and calm. _Father? Please look at me. I am sorry he is dead. Please forgive me._

- Look at me! I am sorry. Is that what you want to hear? Does that make you feel better? I won't do it again! Happy? Listen… I am sorry… Don't make such a fuss about this ! I said it! You win!

Galahad closed the door in his face. The knights found him so many excuses. He was done making excuses for him. Tanjin stared at the wooden door. Fazed by Galahad's sudden display of manhood, Tanjin turned to Lancelot for support.

- I said I was sorry!

But Lancelot only shook his head disappointed. A disappointment he obviously shared with the other three present.

Galahad sat on his cot. He did not feel better.

But he could not find him one redeeming quality.

There was no way he would get along with him.

There was no way what was once broken would ever be repaired.

No way.

Never.

Amery had so many reasons to be what she was. She never questioned herself. Even when people called her name, she knew somehow the name, endearing or not, would suit her perfectly. She was that kind of person. She did not care one bit.

The slap resounded sharply on her cheek. When he saw she had no reaction to the first strike, Big Laurel slapped her again, sending her bumping into a table. She probably deserved that one too. So, Amery stayed on the floor.

Big Laurel was a burly man in his fifty. He called himself a roman citizen but both his parents were Briton native. Apart from his lies, he was a decent boss. Ordinarily, he would be found counting money in his room in the attic. But, now and then, he graced them with his shining presence and… his amazing conversation skills.

Well, he may not possess true beauty, beauty from the heart, but he was not someone you will easily miss or forget.

He grabbed Amery again, yelling obscenities, asking her where she was, what he should have done while she was not working. Amery did not answer. She certainly had nothing to say in her defense.

She deserted. No soldiers should ever desert the battlefield. She knew that much.

She was flat on her back again. He grabbed her ankle just like Gawain before him. This time, though, she did not scream. Fully prepared for what was coming as she was. He dragged her for a while. She let herself be. It was less painful this way. His hands were on her again, roaming their way on her nubile body, checking to see if his toy was not broken. His fingers, big sausages attached to his hand, searched that place, that semi-precious place, in search of a proof she was nothing but a cheating treacherous whore who stole money from him. Amery was vaguely touched he would think she was smart enough to swindle money from him. She did not scream when he put his hand on a mouth to silence her. She stayed there.

His eyes had changed from anger to lust. Her body did what it was supposed to do and his fingers coated moisture. She looked straight at him. She did not avert her eyes. She said nothing. She speak no words to sooth him.

He said he loved her. "I think I love you." Pretty simple words he said. Young Galahad scared Amery with something she could not comprehend. She immediately hated the ring in these words. Assembling them together became taboo. She would have none of that. How could Galahad of all people love someone like her? Did he give her a single valid reason why she would deserve praise?

Tears streamed down her cheeks. Laurel was holding something in one hand while he fumbled with her robes. She did not have to move her head to know it was himself.

How could anyone find beauty in her? Was it wrong that she wanted to stay with Tanjin a little bit longer?

A beautiful being so complex found beauty in her selfish-self. She used them, he said. Maybe that was true.

If she did use them, she had no remorse. She was that kind of person.

Was it so wrong if she wanted more of their praise? If she wanted them to look at her a little bit longer.

Was it so wrong?

She wanted more of them.

Of course, that made her lovely self a cheap whore, right?

She wanted to say: "So be it."

For one brief instant, she believed Galahad loved her.

For one brief instant, she believed Tanjin loved her.

She had purpose for one brief instant.

One instant, Laurel was on her, the next she felt only emptiness. She had no purpose now.

Fiery red hair blinded her. Maternal strong arms held her tight. Strawberry blonde hair fell on her nose.

- It's alright, baby girl! We've got you!

Sylena whispered in her ears as she stroke her hair gently. Amery said nothing. She stared aloof in the distance as Vanora hit Laurel with an old pan.

- You touch her again, you pig. And I'll make sure your filthy junk never breathe air again. You hear me! We are not here to please you, you stupid son of a bitch! I will call Tiberius again! And Arthur… I will call Arthur!

- Vanora! Get off me, bitch!

- Call me bitch just one more time and I'll have gotten myself an excuse to beat you up real good. Nobody will miss your sorry ass, you fat jerk.

- She said nothing! She stayed there like she was asking for it!

Edorra, Lancelot's brunet, rolled up her sleeves. The other girls cheered Vanora on.

- Give me that pan, Van!

- Go find yourself your own pan, Dorry ! Can't you see I'm busy?! You child molester! You touched that poor girl again and I will fry you like it's New Year's Eve!

- She is no child, you lot.

- Disappear from our sight, now!

- She owes me. This is no shelter. She has to work if she wants to eat.

- You're still here spouting nonsense! I will smash your face to pieces!

Laurel got back to his feet and did as he was told.

- That pig is gone, little sister. He can't hurt you anymore. Sylena said.

Down on her knees, Amery held her tight, her face wet with tears.

- I'm no good. I wanted to explain. I don't want him to hate me. I don't want them to… I couldn't say the truth and… I did everything wrong. So he must hate me! I am disgusting. I did everything wrong. He doesn't love me anymore. He hates me. What is wrong with me? Why am I so broken? Why can't I give him what he wants? Why can't I love him back? I wanted him to love me. Why am I so…? What happened to me?

Sylena held her so firmly in response, Amery could barely breath.

- Honey, you are just fine the way you are. Just fine.

For their last night in the fort, the knights chose to stay inside the garrison. It seemed inappropriate to go to the Tavern after what happened. So, they were drinking ale. Occasionally, Bors would say something funny. Occasionally, they would laugh.

Galahad was sitting next to Gawain. Gawain played dice with Aggravain. Blaez was playing with the small brasero. Tristan sliced an apple, one foot on the table. Duncan was playing with a knife, lost in his own thoughts. Lancelot was staring intently inside his mug.

Melan and Tanjin arrived at the same time. The room grew quiet. Tanjin took a deep breath. His eyes were unforgiving when they fell on Galahad. That bastard had made him an outcast. He dared shun him as if that midget had that type of power. Galahad stared back coldly as if he was transparent. Tanjin fumed internally. Melan was kind enough to try to pacify him. Only, Tanjin was in a mood for a kill. He stood his ground. Galahad was to blame.

Bors was the first to react.

- Bloody hell! What's wrong with you two? You share the same taste in women. That happens… Nothing wrong with that! Get over it already, kids!

Galahad did not change attitude. Tanjin scowled harder and went to his chair.

- They're ruining the mood. Percival stated.

Lancelot sent a look Tanjin's way. Tanjin lowered his head in answer. Good, at least he wasn't rolling his eyes. Lancelot emptied his mug. He needed a girl… To get away from the drama, he needed a girl that was not blonde and named Amery.

Duncan stabbed the table countless times with his knife. He felt restless. He got up suddenly. His chair clattered on the floor and he left the room.

His fist clenched, Tanjin closed his eyes. There was no way he would let her out. His chest hurt. He could barely breathe. He could barely exist in this room anymore. Still, he was not allowed to let out tears. He didn't do anything wrong. He would not cry. Because he knew, Tristan was watching. Because, he knew Tristan could see through the lies. Because, they were all his enemies right now. It was Galahad's fault.

He got up, his chair scratching loudly on the floor.

- Tanjin? Melan asked worriedly.

- I am going to bed. Wake me when there is something to kill.

He was outside before he knew it. Before he knew, his steps had taken him to the stables. The moon was so large in the sky. It was not in his habit to stalk people, but he had something on his chest to say and no one to talk to. He needed one people to remain on his side.

- What do you want?

- You hate me too. Tanjin sighed.

Duncan whirled toward him not believing the sadness he heard in Tanjin's voice. For an instant, he felt pity for Tanjin… For a moment, only…

- How could you be such a fool? You moron! You only think about yourself. You are so selfish. You walk this earth as if the sun should only shine for you, Prince Hun. I hate that you can't think for a second about the consequences of your actions. What is wrong with you?

Tanjin stood there, eyes blurry. After an awkward silence, Duncan sighed.

- Oh Tanjin! You make it difficult to…love you, you know… Of course, I do not hate you. I could never hate you. I just want to punch you a lot right now. Was it nice?

The hun's eyes grew wide in confusion.

- Amery and you.

Shrugging again, he gave a very Tanjin-like answer.

- Dunno, I just needed a friend.

Was that it? He needed a friend. Duncan nodded. He could make an attempt at accepting this as an explanation.

- Alright.

But then, he did not really understand. Because every fiber of his being was telling him, this was not right. He was Tanjin's friend, was he not?

- No… No… Really, I do not understand Tanjin. Amery? Why her? Galahad is right. There are so many girls at the tavern.

- Nothing happened.

Tanjin sighed. He could understand why the idiotic semi-samartian named Galahad made such a fuss about it, but he expected more from the other knights. He was so sure Duncan would understand. Duncan always appeared to Tanjin like a pretty reasonable fellow. He should be on Tanjin's side because if anything Galahad started it. He was behaving pretty irrationally. Tanjin was older. Amery was nobody's property. She was his friend. Gal should be groveling on the floor asking for Tanjin's forgiveness.

- Like I'd believe that…

- When did I ever lie to you Duncan?

Duncan sent him another glare. Well, technically… Duncan was not that stupid. There was a bunch of stuff Tanjin wouldn't say.

- Why is everybody making such a fuss about it?

- Do you think I'm stupid?

- Even I don't know why we're having this conversation you and me!

Duncan sent him a glare.

- You are a secretive and manipulative bastard. Until now, I considered you my friend. But I swear I want you to stop lying to my face. I would go to Hell with you, Tanjin. But do not lie to me. Not to my face! Because I don't care for that girl!

- If…I told you… I can't tell you anything.

- Why?

- I can't tell anyone. I mean there's nothing to tell.

- Tristan knows. I watched you two theses past few months. I'm not an idiot. Is he blackmailing you? Do you want me to ask him to stop?

Tanjin stared at the floor.

- It's not like this. It's complicated.

- Does Amery know?

Duncan was jealous even knowing he had no right to be. It was childish.

- Duncan?

- That's perfect. Everybody knows your secrets but me.

- You do not tell me everything either.

- That's not true.

- I don't know about your past.

Duncan sighed; having a conversation with a Hun was tedious for reasons other than the language barrier.

- Why are you changing the subject, Tan?

- Because it's true! Everybody wants to know what is happening in my head. I hate that. You don't see me asking what's happening in yours.

- It's because we care, Tanjin! You know what these words mean? We care. Tanjin only does what he does best, being selfish.

- I am selfish? You want me to ask fussy girly questions about how you feel. Why did you take that awful punishment for me? Why didn't you stop when I tell you to? What's been broken into you for you to take five hundred lashes on a whim? There were already scars on your back on that day and… you chose to protect me instead.

- That is… It's… Listen, it was my choice. Why do we have to go back there? We're fine now.

- So… I'm confused now. You're suddenly not very forthcoming. Don't you want to share your deep down secrets with me? It seems to me I'm not the only one with secrets. I'm the only one who gets a trial for it. Every… Time…

- Tanjin !

- I don't want you people in my head! You don't need to know what I've been through. You don't need to know to be my friend.

- Tanjin !

- I hate this! Can't you see how it makes me feel ! He suddenly shouted.

Tanjin stood there breathless. Then, he crossed his arms on his chest. Scourge and Aurora snorted annoyed to be caught in the middle. Duncan let out an irritated sigh. Unbeknownst to the Godess of Reason herself, Tanjin just made a very good point. The universe was about to collapse on itself. That was so very Tanjin-like to demonstrate such a twisted logic at the oddest time. It made no sense that there were even discussing this. It made no sense that Duncan could see some shred of logic there. Was he becoming a hun?

Tanjin's face was partially caught in the torchlight. He looked more childish than mysterious at this point. His lips pursued pointedly. His face framed by dark locks of hair was cast in a neutral tone in the dim-lit stable. Green eyes waited patiently for Duncan's next move. That's when Duncan realized that there was something in his eyes that was not present the first time he ever looked at Tanjin. There was a certain amount of trust. More than that, he could sense his fears. It wasn't like Tanjin to parade and show his vulnerabilities for the world to see. In this light, he still looked too frail to be a man. A lump caught inexplicably in the rider's throat as he looked at his sharp delicate bone structure. His lips were suddenly dry. He cleared his throat clearly uneasy.

- You are right. That's the silliest conversation I've ever had with you. I don't even remember how it's started. You're that good, little prince. I guess… I just want you to tell me when you're not alright. I want to help. I care. That's what I'm trying to say in my own way.

Tanjin suddenly dropped on the floor, crouching, face between his knees, hands anxiously curling in his hair. After a minute or so of pondering his strange behavior, Duncan also dropped down at his level.

- Hum…

Tanjin remained silent for the longest time. Aurora, Duncan's mare fell down too. Scourge witnessed their strange behavior condescendingly, before he slapped Tanjin with his tail.

- Tanjin…

- I do not want to be cast out again. I don't want to lose everything again. I want to belong somewhere.

- You belong here, Tanjin… with… us. Alright?

Duncan sighed again.

- If you want to hear the truth, all I ever wanted in my life was to be a man, as strong as my father and as amazing as my brother. Being with Amery did not exactly achieve that but she tried to help me. I'm not close to being neither. Keda and Attila were so impressive. The horde… My people stood as one cheering for them. They were true leaders. I remember when I was younger. I caught a fever following Talika in the pig's barn. Honestly, I don't remember a lot. When I wake up in the middle of the night, made sicker by Lupa, our healer's medicines, they were both there, Keda and Attila… hovering over me… Father's hand… was on my face…stroking my hair until I fell back to sleep. I did a terrible thing growing up like I did. He never looked at me like this again. I'm a disappointment to them.

- Tan…

- I've made mistakes. I keep making mistakes. I am a mistake. Their footsteps are so big I could never fill them despite what I promised Talika. But Duncan, the thing is I keep on trying every day. Because if you give me time, I will give it my best.

- I know. I know you will.

- This is my personal battle. But these days, I'm losing it every day. I want to die a Hun… I want to believe I will see them again. I want to believe I will be part of the tribe again. But I'm losing it… I'm not the son my father raised me to be. Amery… She sees things just like Tristan. But she is kind. She doesn't care if I lose the battle. I can rest in front of her. You understand now?

Duncan remained silent. He couldn't find the words to pacify Tanjin's fears. The truth he didn't know anymore. He could only see his mischievous lips dancing against the air. He wanted to say he did not care either but his own lips remain dry.

- My father's only act of kindness was letting me join the cavalry. I don't remember a day when the whip hanging above his bed didn't squarely hit me across the shoulder. I went with the romans without turning back once. I don't have a home back there. I never had a home to begin with. I envy you, Prince Hun. Your father loved you. You had a home. You're going to get there, Tanjin. You will win that battle. I just know you can do everything you put yourself into. You have to be patient. Patience is not your strong suit. But, you should be patient.

- I could not stand it if you cast me out too.

Duncan's eyes softened. Without thinking, he extended a hand to Tanjin's soft unruly mane. He patted his head softly.

- That's not gonna happen. I'd never do such a thing, Tanjin. Bors is so right. We're behaving like a bunch of idiots. Let's not talk about it anymore. If you want to be of use, help me with the horses.

Tanjin grimaced with disdain.

- Can't I just watch?

- You want to be forgiven or what…

Duncan sent a glare in his direction. He was fidgeting nervously staring at Scourge's rear. Some Hun he was! Duncan started to laugh uncontrollably.

- Grab a fork, your highness.

- You will pay for this one day.

- Is that a threat?

Tanjin smiled that girlish smile of his.

- It's not, Duncan.

Again, Duncan felt his throat run dry.

Once, the family of Aloysius had been the glory of Rome. His father made sure he never forgets that. Coming from a long line of military officers, Marcus was the fourth generation. He was appointed to this station in Epithelium when he was thirty, given this land by the emperor himself. Aloysius knew one day, it would be his turn. He will have to prove himself worthy. That day was probably here.

Excalibur sat proudly on a pedestal. The blade gleamed in the semi-darkness. Aloysius observed the handle, which was like the blade, twice the size of a roman sword. With a trembling hand, he brushed a finger on the blade and winced when it was slashed mercilessly.

- Careful with it. It has trouble recognizing friends from foe.

Aloysius turned to see Arthur in the entrance. The captain of the samartian knights smiled gently.

- I'm sorry. I shouldn't be here.

- No, it's alright. I just thought everyone had gone to bed.

- Well, I couldn't sleep.

Arthur nodded.

- Are you alright? He asked, gesturing to his slashed finger.

- Oh I'm fine. It is such an impressive sword.

- It is.

- Even to its wielder?

- Especially to its wielder.

- A Round Table, an Impressive sword, Father did not exaggerate.

- Knowing Marcus, he probably added the biggest fool in all Britannia. He was probably very true on this too.

- He said you were an idealist. You believe in the grandeur of Rome.

- Well, it is not that bad to believe in something… In anything for that matter… That is something I learned with time.

- From your men?

- Yes, partly.

- Is that why you kept the Hun alive?

Arthur took the time to think about it.

- Yes, probably.

- I am sorry. It is not my business the way you treat your soldiers. You must think I'm presumptuous and disrespectful.

- I believe you are a very brave young man. As for my men, they are not mere soldiers. They are the one who fight alongside me. Many were seated at the Round table and died along the way. They gave their life to protect Rome.

- You trust them.

- With my life. They trust me in return. That is why they are willing to go to Epithelium.

- Do you really think my father is still alive?

- I've seen worse odds.

Aloysius stared at him, perplexed.

- You are truly something.

Aloysius woke up with a start. He fumbled to put on his clothes and sheathed his sword in its scabbard. He didn't remember falling asleep. Of course, he remembered his conversation with Arthur but not much after that. He remembered taking a last look at the maps in the strategy room. Then he came back to his room to find Yseult sleeping there. Now, the bed was empty and cold. His sister was nowhere to be found. He greeted Tiberius' wife, Salva and she waved him goodbye from afar.

The sun was rising as he arrived in the stables, stumbling face to face with Tristan. Tristan barely spared the boy a glare before returning to his preparations. There were enough apples in the pouch attached to Illyria's flanks to hold a siege for a week. Aloysius stood there not knowing what to say. Should he greet him like he did Arthur or Tiberius? Should he wait for Arthur?

- It seems we're both early. You are the scout, right?

Tristan abruptly unsheathed his sword. Aloysius stood his ground, his mouth suddenly dry. It wasn't true what they say about the sam

Tristan crouched to check if Illyria had been shoed properly. It's not that he didn't Jols or Duncan to do a good job, but Tristan didn't like to leave anything to fate. He was keen on staying alive even when he had nothing to live for right . They were not vicious and bloodthirsty, right. Tristan examined the blade in the sun before putting it back in its scabbard.

- Your name is… Tristan, right?

It was noisy outside. Tristan didn't have to turn to know that Gawain, Aggravain and Galahad were approaching. Aloysius took a step back and stumbled on Scourge who immediately tried to bite his head off for his audacity. He fell squarely on his back.

He was still crawling to regain his footing when a hand closed around his collar and pulled him backwards. He was face to face with a blonde boy.

- Hey, careful! You don't want to mess with Scourge. He doesn't like people.

- Especially Romans. He doesn't like Romans at all. He is from Epithelium too. Aggravain added dryly.

- It's safe to say that he doesn't like any kind of people around him. Gawain said again, extending a hand in Aloysius' direction to help him stand.

- Oh! It's untamed.

- Only his master is. Galahad said between clenched teeth.

- No, he is as tame as he could be! He is a good horse.

Duncan said as he entered the stable.

- Gentlemen, good morning!

He gave Scourge a pat and threw a saddle on him.

- It's your horse? Aloysius asked.

- No way, I'd trust Scourge to carry me anywhere. I only care for him and because he is royalty and I'm handsome, he allows me.

Aloysius frowned. Was he talking about the horse?

- I'm Aloysius. He said lamely by way of introducing himself.

- I know who you are.

- We all know who you are, kid. Now, Move out of the way. We're busy here. Bors groaned as he stood with Braden and Dagonet in the entrance.

- You seem in a foul mood. Gawain asked.

- Try to leave a woman in the morning and see if you won't be especially if that woman is a red-haired.

- That's what I do every day. They all seem quite content afterwards. Lancelot said as he entered the stables.

- I don't know if I would be proud of that one, Lance. Blaez said, passing by, carrying his bags.

- Where's Arthur? Aggravain pondered aloud.

- Praying that good-for-nothing god of his for a safe and peaceful journey. Of course, we all know it won't happen.

Lancelot glared at Galahad and Tristan.

- Where is Melan, Danis, Percival, Blaez, Tanjin, Andreas and Callan?

- Here. I'm here. Though Andreas and Callan are missing. They are not in their room.

- They are probably sleeping in the arms of someone somewhere.

- In the arms of each other even. Gawain taunted.

- Tanjin is missing too. Melan stuttered. He was gone when I woke up.

Lancelot groaned.

- Tanjin never wakes up early.

- I know. Maybe he just went for a walk.

- That boy? Walking? Peacefully walking? I sense a whip or a cane. Something fairly large and painful. The point is I'm hurting already.

Melan shrugged. Lancelot turned to Duncan who shrugged in turn. Tristan ignored him. Galahad sent a dirty glare his way.

- I hope nobody killed him last night. God knows I'm inclined to now.

- He is with that girl.

- Shut up, Percy ! Blaez cut him immediately.

Percival loves to gossip. It scared his own cousin to see how much.

- But I saw him this morning while…

- Shut up, Percy!

Galahad, Tristan and Duncan stopped what they were doing. But Arthur appeared on the threshold with Jols.

- What's wrong? Why is everyone so unhappy? Bad news? Greetings, Young master Aloysius.

Aloysius's face lit. He was so happy to see a roman face.

- Captain Arthur!

- I hope you are well-rested. Jols saddled Kalinin for you. He was tamed by Duncan. He is a pleasure to ride. Right, Duncan?

- Well, he is not difficult. I wouldn't say easy though. But he is not Scourge at least!

- Is everyone here?

Again, Aloysius was stunned by the lack of formality and ceremony.

- Andreas, Callan and Tanjin…are missing.

Lancelot said saddling his horse.

- Well, Andreas and Callan must be asleep somewhere.

- I know…

- Tanjin is worrying me, Lancelot.

- When does he not, worrying someone, I mean, you tell me.

- Tanjin is the Hun, right? Aloysius asked.

- Don't ask. You don't want to know. Blaez grumbled.

Lancelot turned very menacingly toward Aloysius.

- It's better if you stay away from Tanjin. He didn't very much like your father. We didn't like him much either.

Aloysius swallowed hard.

- I can see them!

Aggravain yelled as he stood on a post outside.

- They are coming. They are with a girl.

- Is Tanjin with them? Arthur asked.

- Yes! I can smell him from here.

Gawain and Blaez snorted at that. Galahad ignored them all.

Soon, Andreas and Callan sprinted into the stables.

- Sorry for the tardiness, commander. Andreas wouldn't wake up!

- Callan wouldn't wake up!

Tanjin followed suit behind them, holding Amery's hand. Silence ensued. Amery did not dare raise her head. She kept staring at the ground worriedly as if it could swallow her one minute to the next… She would probably welcome such a fateful end right now. Galahad's eyes were piercing holes through her.

- Seem like you're not afraid of anything little bastard. Somehow, that's why I like you. Bors laughed. So funny! Kids!

Arthur crossed his arms and sighed.

- Tanjin, you're late. Have you nothing to say?

- I was with my woman. Is there a problem with that, commander?

Amery's eyes widened suddenly. Percival's eyes bulged out of their sockets. He was relishing the drama. Blaez spit the water in his mouth. Danis prayed all the gods he knew. Tristan stared coldly at Tanjin. Duncan scratched nervously his head. Galahad's hands clenched his sword. Gawain grabbed Galahad's arms. Lancelot was already stepping toward the couple.

- Very well! You will be on fire duty!

- Hey!

- Do you have a problem with that, Tanjin?

- Hm...Nnnn…

- I can't hear you from here.

- I said no!

- Say your goodbye now! We're going!

- I… just…

- I don't have time for games. This applies to everyone. We're going to war in hostile territories. We don't have the advantage there. Some of us may not come back. I may not come back. So I say it again, this is not a game. This is your duty as men of honor. You better take it seriously.

Arthur took his belongings and led his mare outside, followed closely by Lancelot, Aloysius, Blaez and Melan. Gawain grabbed Galahad and led the way. Bors rolled his eyes but followed with his comrades. Tristan spared Tanjin and Amery a glance before he smiled that crooked smile of his. Tanjin wanted to punch his face.

Tanjin sighed.

- I knew that was a bad idea.

Amery held her beating chest in her hand. She could barely stand right now. She wanted to crawl on the floor and cry like a baby. Tanjin didn't let go of her right hand though.

- Listen, Amery, I'm about to get very serious.

- What…

- What I said earlier, I thought every word.

- Tanjin…

- I feel responsible for you somehow. Because of me, you've been cast out. I'm not good at taking care of things. I've never… done anything like that. But you know I will do my best. I will take care of you always.

- Tanjin…

- I owe you.

- You don't owe me anything. I'm content to be your friend.

She held his face between her small hands.

- I'm so proud of you… of both of you.

She whispered with a smile.

- You have no idea how proud I am when I see you.

- So will you forgive me one day?

- For what?

- I saw the way you look at him.

- I don't!

She stared at the ground.

- I do. It's true. But it's only because I don't know what I'm missing. I'm a fool really. I mean it's okay, Tanjin. I will wait for you here. Don't worry about me! You take care of you both. You protect each other. If you have time, look his way too. He is not a bad person. I love you, alright?

He didn't know what to say just like when he stood on a hill for hours after watching Talika depart for the East. He decided since he couldn't find the word and he didn't have all day, he could try to tell her another way. So he hugged her. He held onto her firmly. He held onto his friend knowing he ought to do better than that. So he kissed her too. It was nothing too indecent. It was a mere peck on her mouth just like she did on the day of the trial. Amery's mouth was as salty and wet with tears than on that day, though it wasn't as unpleasant. Her lips were soft and warm. He was getting used to it. It was starting to be… nice.

Despite his flaring jealousy, Duncan tried not to interrupt them and waited at a reasonable distance with Scourge and Aurora. But when he saw Lancelot approached again. He knew he had to say something soon. Lancelot stopped dead in its tracks. He honestly thought this thing Tanjin had with Amery existed solely for the sake and purpose of pissing the Hun's biggest competition, for Galahad and Tanjin's rivalry was as old as their first meeting. But now that he could see them together, Tanjin and Amery that is, he understood that it was something far more dangerous than some kids quarrels. They were feelings involved…Lots of feelings involved. Lots of people were about to get hurt. Since when did the Hun grow up to be such a pain?!

He knew it in that instant. Probably, Arthur, who was more compassionate than him, saw it too. Some of them may not come back from this. Death was looming over them again.

It was going to be a very complicated mission. Lancelot was convinced now. It was going to be one hell of a journey.

- Tanjin, let's go! Duncan finally said.

Duncan and Lancelot exchanged concerned looks.

One hell of a journey.

Indeed.


	20. Goddess of War

-20-

**Goddess of War**

Two days away from the fort, rain started pouring heavily on their journey. That was not what Lancelot would have called a good luck sign. Lancelot hated this weather. He hated that he had to cross the Marshes under it. Dreary and gloomy, the marshes of Caraenyc spread before him as far as his eyes could see. The stench was not the first thing to bother him. No, it was the greyness around him, the dullness, and the lack of vivid color as if life itself had long deserted this land. Weed covered the dark path they were following.

His mare was on edge. It was impossible to see your own reflection in the surface of the sullen waters. The smell of dead grasses and rotting reeds intoxicated the air. As he followed closely Arthur, Lancelot tried to not fall into a hole. It already happened twice today. Earlier, Callan and his horse fell into a deeper gash in the swampland and it took a long time to get back on track after that impromptu halt.

It took twice as much time to get out of the marshes. The cold seethed his bones. His skin felt dry despite the rain. This land had a way to ensnare people in its deadly grip. Lancelot could not comprehend why they were even on the road to begin with. If the situation was half as bad as Aloysius described it, Marcus was probably dead by now and his men even _deader_. What was the point really? He exchanged a rapid glance with Arthur. He could quite guess what the point here was. It was all about Arthur and his big heart. His friend felt probably very close to Aloysius, having himself lost a father early in life. He looked way too focused right now. Even for Arthur, this was definitely not a good sign.

- We are going to stop for the night, Lancelot. Arthur said.

Great, it was all plains and green hills from there. They had literally nowhere to find shelter be it from the rain or from their enemies. All faces were grave. Crossing the marshes had taken another stab at their already depleting mood. Lancelot relayed Arthur's orders and dismounted quickly. Installing the camp took just a couple of hours. The sun was already setting down when the makeshift tents were summarily erected. The fifty roman soldiers sent by Tiberius kept their distance with the knights. Since the incident last winter, the cavalry and the legion had entered some kind of unspoken truce. They avoid mingling with each other as much as possible. Duncan and Callan cared for the horses. Gawain, Aggravain and Bors were in charge of game hunting. Braden and Dagonet cooked. Galahad was on wood duty with Danis. They made sure to stock enough dry woods to feed the fire all night. Tanjin was on fire duty with Blaez. They relayed each other to keep the fire alive. Tristan scouted ahead with Percival. Lancelot was revising the map with Arthur and Aloysius. He was trying not to roll his eyes too much every time the blonde wonder opened his mouth. He was spending way too much time with Tanjin.

- So you want to go through Broceliande? Arthur said.

- It's the shortest cut to Epithelium. With this, we could reach the city in one day and a half.

Again, Lancelot restrained himself. He noticed instead.

- It's the deadliest too. Those woods… How can we say it nicely? You, Romans, call it Hell… It's hell. It's dark, slippery and most paths are impracticable on horseback. I will add that I really don't feel like crossing those woods again. Not in this rain.

- Why? It's not woad territories at least. We had carriages so we couldn't cross it on the way to the fort. But in other circumstances I would favor this road.

- Favor it if you will, it doesn't make it safer. Lancelot retorted. We know the forest belongs to the Morrigans. They're not much friendly. I do not have a death wish. Those are mean women.

- The Morrigans are nothing but an old legend. The forest is home to the followers of the ancient cult. I heard the stories thousand times while growing up. I can tell you, none of this is true. At most, it's a couple of women practicing their craft at night. They frightened travelers playing pranks on them and that is all. I've hunted in those woods for years with my father. We've never encountered a living soul there.

- Nothing can live there. Danis muttered. The Goddess sees everything.

- See, for once, Danis got a point. Nothing lives there. Just Death.

- Lancelot… Arthur reprimanded.

He knew Lancelot was exaggerating on purpose.

- Say what you want, I'm not going through Finn's tomb. It's settled.

Lancelot countered back.

Aloysius had been told that Finn was a knight who died very young in Broceliande a couple years ago. As far as he was concerned, he could not care less if he had to step on that poor boy's tomb or not. He would do anything to save his father.

- It is not your decision I believe, Lancelot, but Arthur's.

Lancelot sent a glare in the boy's direction. It was safe to say that Lancelot did not like this boy and that his feelings were entirely reciprocated. They scowled at each other, hell bent on proving the other wrong.

- With all due respect, Arthur, you all seem to dismiss the importance of acting quickly. If we take the plains, it may take more than five days to reach the fort. My father, who you may like or not, may not have those five days.

Arthur remained quiet for a while. Right now, Aggravain was imitating a samartian girl and Bors and Gawain were mockingly fighting for her honor. Arthur broke a rare smile. They were such buffoons. His attention fell on Galahad and his smile disappeared. More than angry, Galahad looked really miserable. Galahad and Tanjin stared at each other, defying one another. This insanity had no end, Arthur thought.

- Arthur?

He sighed.

- I'm truly sorry, Aloysius.

Lancelot smirked.

- Even with all his fallacious arguments, Lancelot is right. We won't go through Finn's Tomb. We won't cross Broceliande if we don't have to.

- What? But…

- Broceliande may be the fastest. But with horses, especially in this weather, the trails will be difficult to follow. Tristan suddenly stated, coming out of the shadows.

He dropped his bags next to Lancelot. Lancelot smiled again it was not his fault that he was always right. Arthur nodded. He was just about to say the same thing.

- Furthermore, the woads also know that it is the fastest trail. He added.

- If the Morrigans' influence has weakened over the years, the woads are aware of it too, right, Arthur? Percival cut in.

- Yes, they will be waiting for us there. We won't stand a chance if we are ambushed in those woods. Arthur explained.

They all nodded.

- Arthur is right! Shouted Bors from his seat around the fire.

Aloysius realized stunned that while they pretended to be busy elsewhere, they were all listening to the conversation since the beginning. Did those samartians knew the meaning of privacy?

Bors patted him gruffly on his back.

- You see, son, the Blue Demons, they love to battle in the woods. They fight dirty.

- They can hide and jump you from behind, those sneaky bastards.

Aloysius wanted to scream that he knew very well who their enemies were. He had the misfortune to witness their savagery first-hand. He didn't need to be patronized. But he said nothing as the knights started to gather one by one around them.

- Exactly! I hate those blue monsters. Andreas added.

Arthur nodded and stood.

- No, seeing as our numbers are so low, I say we stand the best chance on open grounds.

- Yes. I say we do. Approved Lancelot.

It felt good to be right.

- Tristan, did you see anything?

- No…

- Good. That means we're still safe. But tomorrow everybody should be on his guard.

- But…Arthur?

- You are worried and it is understandable. However, your father is an intelligent and competent soldier, Aloysius. He is a great leader of men. He probably anticipated this. I would have. He will try to stall them as long as he can. Because he knows we can't make it in one day.

* * *

They never stopped riding the next day until the sun started to disappear behind the hill. It gave Aloysius plenty time to observe his new surroundings. Arthur and his knights were so different than what he pictured in his head as a child. He was somehow impressed but was still not sure if it was in a good way or a bad way. Marcus used to call Arthur the smartest idiot in all Britain. He discovered this was not entirely too far from reality. Arthur was smart. Smarter than ranked officers older than him, he led his men with a sense of responsibility and justice. He acted as the equal to some and as a superior, a father figure, for others. It was particularly evident in the way he treated Lancelot or the Hun.

He wouldn't call it favoritism but Arthur clearly listened to one and indulged the other more than he did the rest of the knights. Take Lancelot, for example, he acted as the second-in-command for Arthur even when they were more qualified and experienced soldiers at hands. Lancelot was cocky and quite selfish. He seemed to be preoccupied by two things only, his own survival and women. It was evidenced when on the first day of the journey he asked Aloysius about his sister. He didn't trust him at all. Unfortunately, Arthur trusted Lancelot a lot… He trusted him completely. They acted like opposite brothers more than like a superior and his subordinate.

Then, there was the Hun. He had changed so much since his days in Epithelium. It was almost impossible to recognize that talkative and arrogant brat from the wild child his father used to keep hidden in the jail of the garrison. He never addressed Aloysius directly and generally ignored the roman. Although Tanjin's relationships with Arthur and Lancelot were complicated at best, Arthur gave him a long leash unlike the others. He was barely executing orders. He replied a lot which was unacceptable coming from a war slave. Blaez was constantly arguing with him over the fire. He never fetch for his own food. The effeminate boy, what was his name, Melan, followed him almost everywhere and always catered to his every need. The same way, the Hun Prince never cared for his own horse. The scarred boy called Duncan tended to Scourge as soon as his master dismounted. Tanjin spent his free time, eating, sleeping, training, and generally annoying the hell out of the others. Aloysius understood the prince also like hunting. Tanjin requested once to be part of the hunting party. But Arthur said no. Working with Blaez on fire duty was supposed to be his punishment. Most of the time, he did the strict minimum between his shifts. He was disobedient, insolent and unapologetic enough to warrant a few days in the coldest jail cell. He was as cocky as Lancelot which was funny in itself because Lancelot seemed like the only real influence on him. A word or a glance from the former would silence the latter. Especially since the young brunet named Galahad and Tanjin were constantly fighting over the affection of a whore named Avery, Amy or Amery if he understood everything correctly.

Many times, the tension seemed to reach its maximum between the two. Yet, Arthur mostly witnessed all their bickering in silence. He never really intervened, leaving the other knights to watch over themselves, or leaving the mean leader role to Lancelot.

At first, he thought it was pure negligence on Arthur's part. But then, he realized that Arthur would always watch them interact cautiously and his eyes were like those of an architect. For lack of better words, Arthur was building something with his knights, a tiny society, a family, he couldn't say. It was something new even for him who grew up immersed in the military. His father never acted that way with his subordinates. He always kept them at a distance. Marcus never even shared an open meal with Hudd, his most trusted officer. This was so new to him.

As for their warrior skills, he had yet to see them in battle. He just knew they were good riders and good hunters. They all rode expertly those hills. They joke around the fire about Tanjin feeding on Scourge blood at night. Aloysius had yet to witness such acts. They also joke about his supposed inability to ride Scourge. In reality, the Hun was a pretty decent rider. Scourge, that awful horse, could run. Many time, it caught up with Arthur and Lancelot on the front. It was like it was born for racing, it somehow compensated Tanjin's lack of riding skills. The reason why Tanjin never cared for him after a halt, he learned later from Duncan. Always relishing the race, Scourge needed to walk a lot before resting, Aurora too. So he took them both on a walk.

No one was ever left behind. Duncan was the best rider of them all. He knew all their horses like his own. Each time he sensed that someone was falling behind, he usually slowed down to help, either by taking some of their belongings with him or by checking their mount. Yesterday, he went as far as letting Melan ride on Aurora with him, because the other knight was exhausted. Arthur had a lot of trust in him too.

Melan was like Tanjin's shadows. He was small with auburn hair and truly resembled a girl. He had a small constitution like the blonde named Danis. He looked too frail to be of any use on the field. Apparently, fighting was not Melan's specialty. He was good with medicines and potions. He cared for all of them after a day of riding, bandaging their wounds, taking out splinters, helping Dagonet with the broth.

Tristan was the scout. If Lancelot was Arthur's right hand, Tristan seemed to be the left one. He knew this land better than the maps. He could make himself invisible in woad territories. Arthur seemed to respect him immensely. Braden and Percival usually rode with Tristan. But he was always the one to report to Arthur. He never answered when called. He was asocial and taciturn. Though sometimes, when he seemed in the mood, Aloysius saw him interact with the others. He had a bird, a tamed hawk. It seemed to be his only companion.

They sometimes travelled by pair or trio. Bors, Braden, Dagonet, were always together just like Gawain, his brother and Galahad or Andreas and Callan or Percival and Blaez. There was a true sense of community among them that baffled him and intimated him all at the same time. Even with all their squabbling, they were a homogeneous bunch. Aloysius felt like an outsider. He wondered if it was a good thing or not.

It was nighttime again. Half of the camp was asleep. Gawain was playing a game of dice with Aggravain next to the fire. Galahad sat with them not really participating. Lancelot, Percival and Blaez talked about all the girls at the tavern they took back to bed. It was Lancelot turned to enumerate and it took a while to remember all of them. Arthur was reading a scroll in his tent.

Tanjin stared at the vast open sky scowling at the unsteady weather. Flashes of lightning illuminated the dark heavens. Loud rumblings thundered throughout the land, the sound faintly echoing on the ground beneath him. This cold and humid weather made Tanjin particularly anxious. The wind blew softly in the plains. The overpowering smell of wet grass drifted with the wind. He was on edge as always. Galahad was ignoring him again. Nervously tapping his foot on the ground, Tanjin felt like sending a rock at him. There were plenty where he was seated with a wide variety of choice in size, shape and color. The one he grabbed instantly felt right in his hand. It was also the perfect size for his big head, not deadly but painful. He was about to test its velocity when Lancelot grabbed his girlish fist in one swift movement and sat next to him. It was useless to ask Tanjin why he had a sudden urge to hurt Galahad so Lancelot didn't even bother asking.

- You're something, little Hun. You are restless and relentless. Are all your people just like you?

Lancelot asked. He knew the answer. If they were as relentless and childishly cruel as Tanjin, the Huns would have become the new Romans. Their empire and civilization would prevail on all and there would be Hell on Earth. Fortunately, "Arthur's God", or any decent "God", forbid such a dangerous thing to ever happen for Humanity's sake. One Hun was enough work as it was.

The rain stopped again. The fire was sending tiny sparks of flame in the sky. Tanjin shrugged and let go of the rock. It went rolling between his feet.

- It's not my fault. It's the way he looks at me with his tiny beady eyes.

- He is not looking at you.

- He is… Did you know his eyes were blue? Is he Greek?

- Greek? Galahad… no…

- Greeks are evil. They think they know everything. I knew a Greek slave who would never shut up when ordered. He was called Akakios. He had blue eyes too… Tiny sneaky blue eyes…

- Tanjin…

- Just like old man Akakios, Galahad is ridiculously ugly. I hate that I have to even look at him. It's unfair. I should retain the right to not be looked at by him.

Lancelot muffled Tanjin's hair roughly. It was not easy to forget Tanjin was just a brat. He was an irresponsible immature brat.

- Tanjin, listen to me…we're getting closer to Epithelium.

His small face closed. He pursued nervously his lips and tried to look elsewhere. Lancelot followed his gaze. Both stared into nothingness. Only Lancelot sighed.

- I can't help you if you don't tell me.

- That would serve no purpose, I assure you.

- No, on the contrary, that would tell me if you're ready or not to fight for those roman lives and yours.

- I'm ready.

- Tanjin…

- I don't care.

There was an awkward pause. Lancelot was momentarily taken aback by his words. _Tell me Arthur… If I start…If any of us start not caring…Will you do exactly the same thing? Would you stop believing in us?_ Lancelot's father was a blacksmith. He was usually clever with his hands. But he had no idea how to repair something so broken.

- All I care about is the way that dwarf looked down on me as if he is better than me. I want to punch his face in the ground for this.

That was probably enough introspection for one night. Lancelot wondered.

- So you're perfectly fine with this. You're good?

- I'm good.

Lancelot nodded. Tanjin just made it easier for him. He didn't want to have this conversation. He decided a while ago that he was not good with brats. So, he will never have one, especially one as stubborn as Tanjin.

- Good.

He sat there quietly for a while. Tanjin was tapping his foot again nervously. Truthfully, he had long abandoned his observation of Galahad and stared blankly in front of him.

- You know someday Tanjin you will have to talk to someone about what happened to you… about what they did to you.

Tanjin shrugged.

- There he does it again! He groaned. He should not be allowed to do that. See, I'm not the one who's always starting it. It pissed me off the way he gets away with everything. You want to help! Do something about this arrogant fool before I gouged his eyes out.

Lancelot patted his back playfully before getting up. As if he was waiting for this, Duncan immediately took Lancelot's place on the stump of wood. But he knew better than to ask his questions directly.

- Hey Tan…

- Hey… Tanjin groaned again. I hate him. Galahad, I mean.

- Lancelot doesn't get it, right? I was listening. Sorry…

Tanjin said nothing. He stopped fidgeting.

- You've seen worse. There was worse than Epithelium.

With a sigh, Tanjin nodded slowly.

- Marcus and his men can't compare to…what you've been through.

- There was worse. Tanjin whispered staring at Galahad.

- Talking about those things can seem pointless at the end of the day as it happened already. There's nothing you can do to erase it. It will never go away. You can't forget.

Tanjin nodded again, licking his lips.

- It's like the situation with Galahad. You've seen that type of behavior before. It hurts when you have to face your worst memories.

Tensing perceptibly, Tanjin swallowed hard.

- See, I'm not trying to be in your head or anything. I don't need to be in your head. I'm your friend. I just know these things…

Green eyes swallowed him whole. Vibrating flames, reflection of the fire camp, were dancing in his green irises as dark as the night. Duncan felt a danger there he'd never sense before. He waited nervously. _He didn't want to lose Tanjin._ Tanjin sighed.

- I'm exhausted.

- You can rest for now. I will stay. I will watch over the fire for you.

Tanjin's gaze narrowed again in distrust when Tristan came into view.

- I will watch over the fire for you. Duncan repeated.

- Duncan...

Duncan frowned.

- You're a good friend.

Nodding with a faint smile, Duncan looked over his shoulder as Tanjin settled down next to him. Duncan turned toward Tristan. Since that night in the stable, Duncan had been convinced Tristan did something terrible to Tanjin. He did not know what. It was all part of what Tanjin would not share with him. He could only guess Tristan discovered some kind of traumatizing truths about Tanjin and blackmailed him with it… Tristan could be quite devious sometimes. All in all, he didn't really need to know what it was about. All he needed to determine was what Tristan had to gain in all of this. Tristan was pragmatic to a fault. He would never do it without a motive. What did he want from Tanjin? He was scared to ask himself.

When he turned to Tanjin, he noticed the Hun was fast asleep. Just like that, he was asleep, his face smooth from worry. He looked over his shoulder. Tristan was talking to Lancelot before he disappeared in the obscurity. Without thinking, Duncan got up swiftly and followed him.

He could barely distinguish anything in that darkness.

- So he is that important to you?

Duncan spun around finding Tristan's shadowy figure behind him.

- Whatever you're doing Tristan, stop it!

- I see. He is yours to protect.

- What if I say yes?

- I would simply be fascinated with your case.

- What do you mean?

- See, it's not like you, Duncan, know anything about The Hun. Still, you care so much. I truly find this amusing. Does it make you mad that everybody but you knows his secrets or do you try not to think about it too much?

- I don't see where you're going with this.

- I think on the contrary that you see my point.

Duncan snorted.

- The only thing I see is something I couldn't see before. I mean I get now the reason why you were invested so much in this from the beginning. Because you see Tristan, I may not know Tanjin but I know you. You never do anything without a motive.

- What would be my motive?

- I always thought you were born cold. I have to rectify myself. I'm not the only sick mind here. So he rejected you, you shouldn't be surprised. He may be a brat but at least he had the sense and good taste to choose Amery over whatever sick fantasy of yours.

Tristan remained silent.

- Don't tell me I struck a nerve, my friend?

- Well, you are arrogant these days. It's so easy to figure out what he is hiding for anyone looking hard enough. Still…

- You found me out, Tristan. I'm a dumb brute.

- Without the truth…

- See, that's where you got it all wrong. I don't care what he is hiding. Who cares for the truth? Like I said I am a dumb brute. My only concern is that he trusts me and not you.

Tristan could not find anything to say to that. Truth hurts. After all he's done for Tanjin to keep his secrets from the others, the lack of acknowledgment, was starting to get on Tristan's last nerve. He was losing his temper. It was unlike him.

- You see Tristan I don't want to fight you.

- But you will if you have to… Is that a threat?

- I will… hurt you if you hurt him.

- It could not be any clear, friend.

- I certainly hope it is, friend. Duncan said firmly.

Suddenly as lightning streaked and the sky ignited itself again, their eyes met briefly. Duncan could see perfectly for the first time in Tristan's eyes the weakness lodged there. It had a name now. Thunder rolled in the air. Tristan looked at the sky, seconds before it started to rain again. Duncan was gone when he looked down again, leaving him alone in the dark. He exhaled deeply.

It was dawn when Tristan woke up the next morning. The others were still catching some much needed sleep when he packed his belonging and saddled his horse.

- Tristan, you're going ahead? Arthur asked.

He turned to face the roman then nodded.

- Am I such a bad leader?

Tristan frowned. Arthur smiled reassuringly.

- Of course, I know that you're hiding something from me. You have been doing so for months now, years even. I am not even angry. But I will ask you one thing and I demand the truth from you. It's really important.

Tristan nodded.

- The secret you're hiding, can it put the others at risks?

Tristan thought hard. Many times he had asked himself the same question. Should he tell Arthur about Tanjin or not? Will it change something or not?

Tristan shook his head.

- No, it is merely inconsequential.

- That's all I needed to hear. You can go now. Be safe.

* * *

The rest of the journey was surprisingly uneventful. For two days straight, the cavalry rode all day and rest only at night.

Entering Stonehenge marked an important moment in their voyage. Whoever had erected those stones had made sure to make them the creepiest man-made monument in history. It didn't make it easier knowing Percival and Tristan had witnessed Woad movements in the forest.

- Stay together! Lancelot warned the roman cavalry.

- Do you think we're almost there, Tanjin? Melan asked breathlessly.

Tanjin shrugged. How would he know? It was not like he had a way with maps.

- I didn't really like that place. The brown-haired said.

Tanjin didn't say anything. Epithelium was nothing but a mirage in his head. It was a vague distant memory of a life he had once. That particular memory was not attached to any grand feelings in particular… No, he remembered being hungry a lot… being thirsty often… Being mostly out of it all the time… He even vaguely recalled being angry at one point. Anger was the only feeling attached to that place. It wasn't even that powerful a feeling. To be frank, if it wasn't for Gawain's extravagant tales of the Knights' first encounter with Tanjin, the latter would have entirely forgotten about the arson of the garrison. In fact, at that time, blue powder was running loose in his veins and he felt no pain at all. Sometimes, he missed not feeling the pain.

- _So, is that him? The infamous prince Hun! I thought he would be taller, Bishop. _

_Tanjin could care less what they call him. He could care less about the cage they'd thrown him in. He could care less about those men. Retreating back in one corner, he feigned ignorance. Never, he would give them the satisfaction to know he could understand and speak the common tongue. _

- _Where's the Lady? They say one glimpse at her would make any men drop to their knees. The Great Olivia of Rome. _

_Tanjin growled. He could care less about how they treated him but those romans were not to desecrate the name of his mother in front of him. He lunged to grab the officer's throat through the bar but Marcus took a quick step back. Tanjin missed the chance but he quickly turned his aggression to his old master. Seconds later, he had a strong enough grip on the Bishop's collar to pull him against the cage roughly. Immediately, he was pushed back by the legendary Ninth Legion's spears. They were dozen of them grazing his neck. He let go of the Bishop but only after he pulled one last time, knocking him against the bar. Marcus started to laugh. Both men stepped back. _

- _Spirited. Wild. Bold. To say the least. I would never have expected less from the Son of the Scourge of God._

- _ Well, I always deliver what I promise._

- _Bishop, you are a man of words. _

Tanjin frowned hesitantly. The bishop's name and face he could not remember. It seemed so long ago. Melan was puzzled by his sudden silence but didn't question him any further. Instead, he rode alongside him for the remaining of the day.

The knights settled down for the night. Nevertheless, a certain Hun was still lost in thoughts.

- Is he always this quiet? Aloysius muttered.

Arthur followed his gaze toward where Tanjin laid against a tree.

- There are many facets to his personality.

- So, is that why he is so special?

Arthur turned to look at him again. Aloysius lowered his eyes. Maybe he'd overstepped his boundaries there; after all, he just insinuated Arthur was partial to his soldiers.

- Tanjin lost his family and his entire country. But Bors has four children waiting for him to come home. Braden has a beautiful young wife who desperately wants children of her own. Dagonet left his fiancée in Samartia a long time ago. He is still thinking about her. Tristan has a good sense of directions but would probably die of loneliness if it were not for our constant presence. Blaez seemed angry at the world but he dearly cares for his cousin Percival and all his fellow comrades, including the son of the man that burned down his village once. Danis isn't so much a religious fanatic that he's scared of dying. Lancelot wants to grow a farm one day and have many children with one woman only. As an only child, Galahad desperately wants to go home where he left a sick mother and a dying father. He is currently heartbroken over his first love. Gawain and Aggravain are panicked at the idea that one of them won't make it. Gawain is the most unstable of those two. Duncan was beaten so hard as a child he doesn't care for home but nonetheless he was able to take five hundred lashes for a brother…

Aloysius swallowed hard.

- They are all special. Arthur concluded.

Aloysius nodded.

- You should get some sleep, young Master. Tomorrow, we will be in Epithelium.

- Duncan? Tanjin whispered.

His voice was drowned amidst the chant of the cicadas and Bors and Braden's snores. Even Blaez who was officially on fire duty was dozing off now and then in a sitting position. Melan was fast asleep on Tanjin's right side. Behind them, Duncan was leaning against a tree, his eyes closed.

- Duncan?

- Hum…

- Do you remember your mother?

- We're asking personal questions now.

- Never mind. Tanjin yawned and settled back.

- Wait, my mother died giving birth to me. So, no, I don't have any memory of this sort.

- I remember mine.

Duncan shrugged. He never cared about not having any memory of his mother. You couldn't miss what you didn't know to begin with.

- Of course, it's not been this long since you two were separated.

- I wonder about that.

- What?

- It seem like it was so long ago. Is it bad if I'm starting to forget things?

- Things? What kind of things?

Tanjin rolled his eyes. How could he explain this? Her smile… The exact color of her eyes... Her voice... The way she died… The memories eluded him completely.

- Things that should matter but for some reason don't anymore.

Duncan spared him an amused glance. That sure was not vague enough.

- I… I don't know, Tan.

- Alright, that was all I needed to ask.

- Just like that his Highness is satisfied...

- Yes, you are a good but useless friend.

Tanjin smirked. Duncan groaned.

- Well, I'm glad I could not help you! Good dreams, Oh Mighty Selfish Hun Prince!

Duncan heard Tanjin's laughter rouse in the air. He felt warm just listening to that strange noise. He remembered the first time he heard him laugh. Such a pleasant memory! The brunet settled back in turn and closed his eyes. In between heavy eyelids, Tanjin got a glimpse of the glittering stars in the sky.

- _I only kept him alive because his mother would have none of it. She was just as willful and fierce as the legend says. _

_Marcus crossed his arms on his chest. _

- _So what happen to her? _

- _All fire eventually dies down my friend. Do you want him or not? _

- _I don't know. I'm not really into keeping prizes. _

- _Like all his sons, he can fight. He could be of use to an ambitious commanding officer. _

- _I see that. But can he fight for a cause?_

- _Well, he understands orders… Sometimes. I have another buyer in mind, my friend. _

- _Why don't you keep him? _

- _I have no interest in boys. Especially barbaric spawn. I kept him for his mother but he was no longer of use after she passed away. _

- _I don't know. _

- _You have a boy yourself. He could be a great present. Children love foreign items. His first slave. I will make you a special deal. He comes with some belongings. But I will even add this one. _

_Tanjin growled again. The Bishop smiled crookedly while brandishing the Blood Necklace. The High Queen's Blood Necklace was the most sought out jewel in all Hungary. It was a bold ruby, twice the size of a coin, mounted on solid gold melted in the deep mountains. It had been into the Khan's family for decades. First, Attila's father gave it to his mother as a betrothal present. Then, Attila gave it to his first wife Arykan, mother of Diggizigck. When Arykan died, he wanted Kreka, Keda and Kudjila's mother to wear it. Then, it was given to Olivia. It was a symbol of Royalty. In Hun lore, The Blood necklace was supposed to be as gorgeous as it was mystical. It was supposed to give power and immortality to its owner. The legend wanted this glory to be only ephemeral however. All its bearers suffered a gruesome death. Attila's mother was trampled by a horse. Arykan committed suicide. Kreka suffered a hemorrhage while giving birth to Kudjila. Olivia… Olivia… was gone too. Despite its bloody history, Attila used to love that jewel. It was the ultimate testament of the King's affection. _

_His eyes widened. He clenched hard the metal bars as he watched powerless as the Blood Necklace changed hands. Marcus smiled. _

- _Quite a jewel! That's a deal. _

_A girl and a boy ran to Marcus happily. Both children had hair the color of the sun. _

- _Father! Father! They shouted excitedly. _

- _Take that to your mother for me, Yseult. I hope she will welcome this moderate token of my affection. _

_While the girl only had eyes for the golden necklace, the boy, he, stood there, his eyes never leaving Tanjin. _

- _Oh what a great gift! It is such a pretty necklace! I've never seen something so refined. The girl squealed happily. Can I have it when I am older?! _

- _Maybe! You will have to ask your mother if she is willing to give it to you as a wedding gift!_

- _But… _

- _He looks funny, father! The boy shouted suddenly. His eyes look too weird. Are you going to keep him? Can I play with him? _

- We are finally here. Gawain shouted happily.

Tanjin came out of his reveries at that and noticed that all the knights had stopped their mount on top of the hill. He slowed Scourge as much as he could and in retaliation, the stallion almost went back on his steps. Scourge jerked once trying to shrug Tanjin off of him. Then, the stallion fell on the path of Aloysius's mare, surprising her as she almost lurched in answer. Tanjin and Aloysius exchanged glares. It was the first time Aloysius had made eye contact with Tanjin since they started this journey. It had to happen when they were so close to the main goal.

- You're in the way. Please, step aside.

Scourge neighed annoyed and stepped even more into Aloysius' space making his mount even more nervous. The blonde tried to step back but his mare was uncooperative at best.

- Do you want something, Hun? He called out with an edge in his voice.

His hair blown by the wind, Tanjin stared blankly at him. Scourge turned around his prey, his mouth foaming from the crazy race.

- The blood of my people.

It was all he said.

- What?

Tanjin smirked.

- I will get back the blood of my people.

Aloysius felt a chill travel his spine at this. His fingers grazed his knife.

- I… I…

- I had forgotten but I remember now, "Little Master".

Aloysius swallowed hard.

- You…

- Tanjin… Aloysius… You should come now! Arthur ordered.

His heart furiously beating in his chest, Aloysius didn't know how to get past that human obstacle. His mount ventured ahead and Scourge shook his head wildly.

- Tanjin!

Lancelot called back just like one would call back an enraged dog. Tanjin smiled again mischievously.

- I will be waiting.

Scourge stepped roughly the ground before starting again to climb the hill. Aloysius released all the air caught in his lungs. He did not really understand what had just happened. It was so sudden. Tanjin had made no move until now to acknowledge his presence. Until now, he always wondered what kind of feeling that boy could hold out for his family. He was not naïve to think they were of the philanthropic kind. But he never felt such a clear threat since he started the journey. At the same time, Tanjin didn't really threaten him in words. He was at a loss.

Tanjin smiled as he stood next to Duncan and Lancelot.

Blood.

That was all there is to it.

Blood was what maintained the Mighty Huns together.

Blood had also been their downfall too.

He remembered at last the metallic taste of Olivia's blood. It was always all about the Blood. Tanjin couldn't help but think that the roman was about to know exactly what it means really soon.

Aloysius followed closely and stopped beside Arthur. The Roman turned a sour face in his direction. Epithelium stood a few feet away. At last, Aloysius was back home. At least, he was technically back. But the fortress that once stood gloriously in the shadows of the Broceliande's forest was no longer. Only one tower remained swaying dangerously and noisily against the wind. The garrison had been burned down for good. There were more remains of foundation than actual building standings.

Arthur gave a stroke to his mare and he started to climb down. Aloysius couldn't move. The hills, where he played as a child, were no longer of a unique green. They were strewn with black spots where the grass was burned down leaving nothing but dried earth in its stead. Hundreds of corpses lied on the battlements and on the streets. The stench was almost unbearable. One by one, the knights followed Arthur through the battlefield and the ruins.

Aloysius gave a gentle pat to his mare. Lancelot covered his mouth with a cloth. Now was not really a good time to tell that stubborn kid that he had been warned.

Aloysius could not believe that was it. It was too late. He tried his best. He really tried his best. His mare was marching among the corpses without guidance. Arthur got off his horse. He suddenly crossed the grassy fields to the western gate until he stumbled over a corpse. Aloysius jumped down too and sprinted toward where Arthur stood. He recognized immediately the golden armor.

- Father?

- He is still breathing. Arthur stated. He is unconscious though.

Lancelot inspected in turn the old man and gestured for Melan to come closer. The brunet came running. However he immediately paled as he saw the extent of his wounds. His chest was slashed vertically, coagulated blood surrounded the gash, and hemoglobin seeped through the cut, each time he breathed out. His skin had long turned the color of ashes.

Arthur closed his eyes. God knew how long he'd been there.

- Can you do something for him? Aloysius asked, wiping the tears down his cheek.

Melan shook his head, in shock. Arthur took Marcus's head in his hand.

- Do what you came to do.

- What… I…

Lancelot grabbed Melan by the neck squeezing the other boy out of his trance. They returned to their horses.

- Do it soon. Arthur said.

Aloysius fell down to his knees.

- I'm sorry Father that I disobeyed you again. But I wanted… to…

He choked. Tears streamed down his cheeks.

- I needed to come. I needed to say I was sorry. I couldn't just let you die here. I needed to try.

Marcus's eyelids flinched slightly and his eyes fluttered open ever so slightly. His mouth moved soundlessly.

- Two idiots… He breathed.

It was his last words before he went still.

- Father?

Arthur closed his eyes and laid him down to rest.

- We shouldn't have come. Aloysius said. He said not to come back. I should have listened to him. But… I thought I could save him.

- I know that.

- You… knew that. You knew…

- I told you your father was a competent leader.

- But…

- You needed to come. I know. I understand.

Arthur grabbed Marcus's hand which was still gripping its sword tightly. He slowly disengaged each of his fingers and freed the heavy blade. He handed it to the young boy.

- It's yours now. Be sure to lift it wisely.

- You knew that would happen.

- I was not sure. It was the most logical end to this story. Still, I do believe in miracles. We do need one if we want to go home alive. At least, your father will have a tomb.

- Arthur…

Arthur got up, his eyes staring blankly ahead.

- Maybe not now though… They're early.

- Not…now... what?

Aloysius turned toward the hills. Hundreds of Woads were swarming like bees in their directions. They scurried wildly to the fields, brandishing weapons, yelling for blood.

In answer, Bors called for Rus and Blaez responded his call eagerly.

- Tristan, Dagonet, Percy, so many come to greet us. What are you waiting for? It's time we greet them too.

Lancelot got back on his horse.

- In formation, now.

Tristan smiled faintly as he grabbed his bow. Dagonet and him released an arrow at the same time killing two on the spot. Arthur went to his horse.

- Stay behind me, Melan! Galahad, be careful not to die here. Tanjin teased advancing on the first line.

- The same could be said for you, Smelly Hun! Blaez retorted, standing next to him.

- Let's just have fun. I was tired of riding all day anyway. I wanted to stretch. Gawain added.

- I wish we could have a good night sleep first. Andreas moaned and yawned.

- I expect you to be the first to die, boy. Bors grumbled. You're too lazy to be human.

Having given his orders to Tiberius' men, Arthur came back riding with Lancelot.

- Percy, what was the name of that girl? Blaez asked abruptly.

- You mean, Lancelot's girl?

- Dory?

- Not this one, the red-haired with the freckles.

- Siobhan…No… Delilah…

- Her! That's where I want to die…between her legs.

- That's nothing. Tanjin snorted. Duncan said that he wants to die on his stinking horse.

- What's wrong with that? The other boy retorted. If you want to die in a useless battle, Hun prince? Suit yourself.

- Let's not die today. Aggravain muttered. I'm not too fond of horses or whores' heavenly thighs… I like milk and living and breathing in general.

- The Goddess is punishing us. Danis shivered. We shouldn't be here…We really shouldn't be here. Arthur…we shouldn't be…

That was his last thoughts before an arrow embedded itself in his jaws.

Blood.

Blood was everywhere.

The rain could not wash away its foul scent.

Indeed

The Goddess smiled mysteriously

And

Watched in rapture

As

The war began.

* * *

**Author note: **Usually, I have a policy of not sollicitating reviews ( much). But recently, it was hard to write stories without much feedback. Guys, I will not blackmail you by telling you that if nobody review that there won't be anymore chapters. It would be silly and immature. Obviously I've been working on this for a few years now. I will continue to do so until its completion on my own rythm. So, no, this is not blackmail. However a constructive review does help me write the next chapter faster. It encourages me to do better. It tells me what you didn't understand, what I should emphasize next time, what I should be wary of "grammar" wise, what is working and what is not. Well! I suppose if you can read this, it means you read the whole chapter and probably the whole story. The thing is. You probably think that I think my story is great and leaving a feedback will be useless for whatever reasons... That because of the stats bar that I know that I have readers all other the world in Malaysia, Russia, Hungary, UK, Austria, Australia and more... But I am like any other writer, we don't trust the stats. I only trust your words... your opinions. That is what I need when I write a story. When I don't have reviews, I feel like I'm a bad writer. I may even be a bad writer after all. Since, I can't seem to generate any kind of passionate response which is what talented writers can do without breaking a sweat. I don't really understand either how people can follow a story but not leave one review. I'm not trying to be sarcastic. I'm very intrigued. What is wrong with my writing? Is it because the story is entertaining but my skills are average. Do you hate the characters? Do you think like me that my english writing skills is awful ? Is it boring? Is it not good enough or something like that. Can somebody just tell me?

** Dear reader, what I wanted to say I guess was that I thank you for reading, that I have a special thought for you if you take the time to leave a comment even if it's just three words, that I really appreciate when you take the time to fave me, and I love you really when you leave your honest opinion. Thank you everyone!**


	21. Goddess of Pain

-21-

**Goddess of Pain**

Morrigan was not a Goddess who could easily be appeased by thousand men whimpers reaching the Heavens. She was Trinity, Life, Death and Destruction all at once. She would not be easily pacified. She would not be easily swayed by one side or another. She would not be easily contented by the fate of those who had long lost faith in her.

Scums most men were. Scums they returned at last.

It was the way of the Goddess.

Born in the fire, Ashes go back to Ashes.

It was also the way of the Morrigans.

It was already well past noon. The mythical mist of Avalon was still concentrated around its fortress like a white smoky crown. A hundred ravens danced in the sky, soaring in between the fog, croaking in the air. It was another day of mourning in Avalon.

Ebony hair and porcelain skin veiled from the sun by a thick black shawl, the Wild Child stood above the courtyard atop a patch of stairs and breathed in the cold and humid air of the last days of summer. The Sweet Child watched with distant and blurry eyes as Snowblossom and Harkin carried Mother Vivian to her last vessel. She listened idly as the twins Calybrid and Calysto merged their voices with the wind into a melancholic song.

A well-carved boat was ready to embark Mother Vivian, the last Lady of the Lake, in her last journey on this plane of existence. Three days ago, she took her last breath after a long battle against the illness. Following tradition, Morgan remained alone during the days that followed with the empty shell of Vivian in the room where she breathed last and prepared her spirit for the next journey as only she could. Morgan could not be any more lucid. She could not see any clearer despite her apparent disabilities. Grey eyes stared blankly at the dim sky.

_"Morgan, those will be my last words as your Mother. You have matured well. I can see wisdom in your eyes. You are strong and fit to rule now. The Goddess will watch over you from now on. I know you will lead them well."_

_"__**Tell me now what you see."**_

_"Darker times are to come indeed, however I deemed it to be an interesting adventure for you from now on. Blood will continue to be spilt, life wasted, friendship and brotherhood tested. Love will know only sacrifices and loss. You will make many memorable memories."_

**_"Tell me what you feel."_**

**_"_**_Can I hold your hand one last time, dear child of mine? Despite what you may think, you were never the unwanted child. I wanted you to know before I let go of your hand forever how much you were loved Morgan."_

**_"Now you're here tell me."_**

_"The place I am going is a nice quiet place. The goddess is embracing me within her. How fortunate am I to have known such love and passions in one lifetime? My heart is filled with memories. If you open your heart to the Goddess, she will do the same for you."_

_"__**Never let me go**__."_

_"Now is the time. It is the time she had chosen. I will let go of your hand now, my sweet child."_

_"__**Tell me now what you see."**_

_"Green trees and blossoming flowers, I see spring already."_

**_"Who cries from the hill?"_**

_"Your heart…"_

**_"The mist creeps from your eyes."_**

_"I am blind. I can no longer see anything but her. I can see her smiling at me. The Goddess is truly beautiful. I am glad. "_

**_"Your banner will promise, let's remember the start."_**

_"What an interesting journey that was!"_

**_"I believe your heart."_**

_"I believe… your heart..."_

_At last, the hand she was holding grew cold and the room fell silent again, Morgan smiled through her tears as she said goodbye to what was once and welcome what could be._

The courtyard resonated with their melodious chants far from the cries of men dying on a battlefield. A few of them were dancing. The sky darkened even more as the Goddess was getting ready to welcome her most precious daughter.

Tears shrouding her blue eyes, Snowblossom kneeled silently in front of the vessel and presented the last offering for the Goddess the fresh and bloody heart of a deer wrapped in a white cloth. The chant stopped. Every daughters of the Goddess stooped in turn.

Morgan rearranged the veil on her face and held on the crimson-stained knife that severed the life of the deer. She would soon be no longer human. She would soon be the mist in the air, the tears wetting the grass, the earth that nourishes the weak. But for now, the Wild Child will march one last time towards her destiny.

The last thoughts Danis had before an arrow embedded itself in his jaws savagely was that they had probably angered the great Mistress of this land, and that they were all about to pay for it dearly. Then the tiny knight fell down from his horse.

Melan rushed to his sides screaming. Dagonet took out the shooter in one strike. Lancelot watched with a sullen expression as Melan tried to keep Danis' airways cleared from the blood flow. Arthur remained oddly detached from the gore.

- Melan, take care of Danis. He ordered in a steely voice. Find shelter behind the battlements. Galahad! Tanjin! Help Melan! Stay together! Be safe!

With a groan, Arthur spurred his horse in motion with a kick and charged into the battle. He was immediately followed by Aloysius. Lancelot spared a last glance to Galahad and Tanjin.

- Behave! He groaned just before charging into battle.

Frozen on the spot, Galahad watched his fellow comrades meet the woads in a clash of metal and earsplitting screams. The Samartian mounts ran ferociously through line after line of blue-demons.

Tristan dismounted mid-stride, unsheathed his sword, and in the same motion sliced open the man in front of him, the man behind him, then he methodically cut the throat of the man on his left. The gore dripped on the ground. The green grew again one shade darker. Gawain jumped off his horse and fell into a group of native, tumbling in the mud with two of them. Before he was stabbed in the back by another one, Aggravain bashed his assailant's head with his mace. Dagonet and Braden worked back to back, smashing skulls with their battle axe. Duncan was pulled down his horse forcefully after his mare trampled a burly man. Because he preferred falling down than endangering his mare, he let go of the reigns and fell down brutally on his back. He had little time to process the pain as a spike tried to eviscerate him promptly. He rolled on the ground, gaining momentum when Andreas released an arrow on his attacker. He unsheathed his knife and stabbed his shin with it. Straightening up with a cry of pain as the other man fell to his knees; he mercilessly cut the other man's throat and felt only disgust when he was showered in blood. This was no longer the world of men. It was the world of the braves where only the fit may survive. The brown-haired unsheathed his sword. Duncan only meant to survive.

Tanjin fidgeted on the back of Scourge while the stallion stomped the ground impatiently. Scourge wanted to run. Tanjin wanted to fight. They both understood they could both team up and have their desires fulfilled in one motion. So, master and mount were both very frustrated. However Arthur said to watch over Melan and this was one order Tanjin was unwilling to disobey.

Galahad said nothing but was not thinking any less. True, he was standing the closest to Danis when it happened. So it was logical somehow that he would be the one designated to check on Melan and him. But the idea that he had to stand less than one inch from Tanjin while doing so infuriated him. He grunted as he surveyed the woods. He didn't feel safe at all. It was probably because he never felt safe next to Tanjin or the fact they were stuck in the middle of the battlefield, but anyway something was amiss.

- We should move him closer to the ruins like Arthur suggested.

- I don't think we can move him. His wound doesn't look good at all. Tanjin replied, eyeing the blood on the blonde's face with a creepy fascination.

- I'm not speaking to you, idiot. Melan, we should move him now.

Tanjin sent a glare in Galahad's direction and turned to Melan still bent over Danis.

- I don't think I can, Gal. If we move him now I think he will lose too much blood. Melan explained nervously.

- When can we move him? Galahad asked again even more anxiously. We are sitting ducks here… An easy target for our enemies…

Melan shrugged desperately. He was trying to get the arrow off Danis without causing a hemorrhage. His eyes were glistening with tears. But now was not the time to cry, he had to focus now. With one hand he compressed the wound, the other he seek for bandages in his bag. He felt the gentle nudge of Scourge in his hair. Melan looked up to see Tanjin smiling gently at him.

- Don't listen to the dwarf! It will be alright, Melan! Don't cry! Do what you're supposed to do!

Galahad was shocked to hear Tanjin whisper with empathy. Since when Tanjin started to care for anyone but himself, it was again another ploy to look good in front of the others. He glared in his direction. The Hun held his gaze. Galahad groaned. He knew that he should just ignore Tanjin but he felt a strong urge to punch his face.

- I can't do it here. It's going to hurt the hell out of him.

- He's already in much pain. Tanjin noted. Do your best!

- Just do it already, Melan! Galahad shouted. We're very exposed right now! We need to find shelter! Now!

- Don't talk to him like that! Melan is useless when anxious. So let him do his work!

- Why do you care?! You always talk to people the way you want! There's not much difference!

Melan held onto the arrow and pulled it out gently. He grabbed another set of clothes to wipe the blood off and immediately applied a vegetal balm of his own invention. It made it so it could suppress the blood flow and give a kick to the healing process. His eyes widened. It was working. He was a genius. He was doing it… He was saving a life. He almost cried in victory when he saw Danis' eyelids fluttered opened weakly. Blue eyes stared at him confusedly. He noticed that his left eye was unmoving. It could mean paralysis from the left side. He tried to reassure him with a gentle smile and kept examining him. His blond hair was red in some parts. His skin was ashen gray. Danis had lost a lot of blood. He grabbed needles and thread in his satchel. He'd just learned this method from the master healer a week prior his departure. He'd only trained on dead pigs before even though Tanjin volunteered once to be his cobaye. Melan knew Tanjin had sadistic tendencies but even knowing that he could not inflict that kind of pain on a human being. He reasoned now that his patient was past feeling the pain and that it would be less invasive as cauterization… Yes, it was the solution.

- Guys!

- I don't care for your opinion of me, Galahad. But can't you keep it to yourself?! Because no one cares obviously. Isn't that right, Melan?

- See, I know what you're doing!

- Galahad, be nice. Tanjin teased. That's what Lancelot said.

- He said behave to both of us. Screw you, Tanjin!

- Guys! Melan screamed again anxiously. He needed one of them to hold Danis down.

- You know what I don't like is this attitude of yours, arrogant prick! Galahad taunt back.

- You're the one who keeps forgetting his place! Tanjin sneered.

- I took it out! It's bleeding now! I need someone to hold him now.

Tanjin and Galahad whirled toward the brunet healer at the same time. They watched eyes wide as Melan brandished the bloody arrow. Melan wiped his tears again. Galahad and Tanjin looked at each other quizzically.

- I took it out… I need to stabilize his condition for now and get him ready for transport. For that, I need the both of you to stop fighting and I need one of you to hold him down while I will be sewing his wound. I think he is going to live.

They still looked at him like idiots.

- Move now! Melan ordered for the first time in his life.

Green eyes widened in anticipation.

- You are going to sew him down now? Tanjin asked with awe.

Melan smiled a bit amused. Galahad frowned. Were they for real?

- I am. I don't have a choice.

- Melan, you are so awesome. I knew you it! I will hold him down for you. Wait!

Danis started to cough blood again. Tanjin tried to pacify Scourge into letting him down. The stallion was having none of it, trampling the field anxiously.

Two more arrows lodged themselves in a shaking Danis.

- Watch out! Galahad screamed, retreating with his mare.

Another arrow whistled in the air. Tanjin let out an anguished scream as he watched it helplessly carve a hole in Melan's throat. Tanjin did not know if he dismounted or simply fell from Scourge's back. He scrambled on his feet to run as fast as he could. He grabbed Melan before his body fell completely backwards and hugged him with all the strength he had in his small body.

- Melan!

Melan's head fell limply on his shoulder.

- Tan… said… I was awesome… I…am happy.

His eyes fluttered close.

- Melan…I'm sorry… Just stay with me… Just breathe….

Tanjin grabbed the base of the arrow and got it out in one stroke motion. Melan shuddered in his arms as he struggled to breathe. His face turned ashen as he felt the blood pouring on his chest.

- Tanjin… Get out of there, it's too dangerous! Galahad screamed.

Tanjin was unable to move. His blood was so warm on his fingers… on his chest. So much blood… Everywhere… So much blood…

- Tanjin, bloody hell! He is dead! They are all dead! Leave him now! Galahad shouted again, struggling with his mare.

Tanjin stared blankly ahead as he held onto Melan refusing to let go.

- Give me…one more chance… I will make it right… Just one more chance…I will make it right…

The Hun muttered incoherently.

- _Mother… _

_Her face was pasty white and her lips purple. Tanjin felt his heart clench furiously in his chest. She rested in his arms on the ground of their cell, her rags barely covering her damaged body. A smell of snow filled the air chasing the putrid scent of death. Condensed air formed around his mouth each time he took a deep breath. Her head tilted to the side. Her hair, which once had been shiny and soft, rested entangled and dirty on her back. Her strand of grey hair hid partially her tired eyes. She touched softly her dry lips with her left hand. The extremities of her fingers were a sick dark purple. _

- _I am fine now, Tanjin. I cannot thank you enough. You were so brave. I am proud. _

- _Please don't leave me. Don't abandon me here. _

- _I could never leave you. Just now, you entitled me to die a Hun. I am so thankful. You will drink my blood so that I will be inside you… The way your forefathers did before you and I were even born. I will always be with you, Tan… My little khan… _

- _Mother! He sobbed. Don't leave me alone! _

- _You have a great destiny and so much to accomplish. You look so…much like him… You smiled just the same… I still love that smile… I can see him now… He did come back for me… after all… I love that… smile… of his… He waited for me... Attila is there too…I will wait…_

- _Mother! Mother! What? Tell me…_

_When he realized she would not say any more than this, he screamed unable to stop._

Tanjin felt a pair of arms surrounding him. They encircled him in a strong grip. He screamed as Galahad struggled to make him let go.

- _T_anjin! Wake up! We have to move now! We have to fight with the others! We have to move! We can't stay here!

Tanjin opened his eyes. Where was he again? Melan… Yes… He was holding onto Melan… Melan's body was so still. His blood was still warm but his skin was not anymore. HE was growing cold just like her. Melan was… gone. He was dead. His eyes became blurry again.

- Tanjin, now is not the time to grieve! You have to stand up and fight! If you don't you're going to die just like him. Is that what you want?

- Galahad...

The other boy froze. He'd never saw Tanjin looking so helpless and lost.

- Yes!

- He is dead. Melan is dead. I think. I am not really sure. I think Danis is dead too.

- Idiot, I know that! Now get up! I won't let you die here! You hear me? You won't make her cry. I did not give up on her so that you make her cry, you selfish brat. She deserves better than you and better than this. Now get up and fight.

- I can't. He is dead. I can't fight for him no more.

Galahad felt tears clouding his eyes. He wanted to scream. He wanted to… He kneeled behind Tanjin, his breathing labored just like the Hun. Galahad buried his face in Tanjin's neck and felt just as helpless. Melan was dead. It was settling now. Emerald eyes lost focused again. Blue eyes shed more tears.

Galahad grunted and forcefully wiped out his tears. More arrows were coming their way.

- We cannot mourn him now, Tanjin. We don't have time… They killed him. They also killed Danis. All the more reasons to fight for them…for him.

- They did. Tanjin finally stated, coming of his dazed state.

- They did.

Galahad was still holding onto Tanjin and he was still holding onto Melan. Tanjin closed his eyes before biting on the open wound. Galahad was so horrified he backed away instantly. He said nothing though. Tanjin lapped the wound partially clean before letting go of the body. He stumbled to his feet awkwardly.

- He is with me forever.

He stumbled again. Galahad grabbed his arms.

- Tanjin! Can you walk?

Tanjin smirked viciously like a mad wolf.

- I can ride.

Galahad nodded and whistled for his horse. Scourge appeared behind the ruins, stomping the ground furiously.

- Let's move now. Galahad said as he avoided another arrow.

Tanjin straddled Scourge quickly.

- This way… Let's go fight with the group.

But, Tanjin was no longer listening, he charged the other way. Scourge and his master took the direction of the forest where the archer was probably posted.

- Tanjin! This… Tanjin! Let's not rush into things! You Idiot!

Galahad groaned as he spurred his mount into motion and tried to catch up with Scourge.

Tanjin's eyes flickered between light and dark. His eyes burned incandescently, the spark once more clouded not only by the shadows of his past but now by his present as well. He felt it. He felt the madness as it overpowered his sense.

It has been noted many times that despite his awful temper Scourge could run. Sage, the mare of Galahad did not demerit. Her racing abilities was not to be belittled but it was obvious that she held no chance against a disinhibited Scourge. The gap between him and Tanjin kept growing. Scourge wanted to run and his master gave him an open field to do just that. Tanjin grabbed his Hun bow with determination. He zoomed in on a target moving behind the branches of an oak tree. He released two arrows at the same time. He missed his heart and head by an inch. One arrow embedded in a tree branch, the other in the presumed murderer of Melan's shoulder. The woad moved fast to change position. It did not help that he was not alone. The natives drew their bows and another set of arrows soared in the sky.

- Tanjin, what do you think you are doing?! Galahad roared as he rode harder.

He saw the second shooter before Tanjin did and released an arrow on him before he had time to squeeze again his bow. Scourge did not slow down when he entered the forest. The stallion had no intention to. As he passed by, Tanjin grabbed the murderer by the throat and went down with him in a bold and unconscious move. They both rolled on the ground in a sickening bone-crushing heap. Only one got back on his feet in time to avoid being trampled by Scourge. Tanjin unsheathed his swords and swirled it around with expertise. He activated the blade in his gloves. Two dark figures got out of the shadow. The woads looked at each other questioningly as Tanjin took a step forward, his face and clothes covered with the stench and the gore of the battlefield.

- What are you?

Tanjin just laughed at the question. Silly, he was Death.

- Come and play! I will tell you.

Galahad froze as he heard frightened screams coming from the edge of the forest. He hurried even more. He arrived in time to see one head roll in front of his mare. He caught the dark and bloody figure of Tanjin as blood continued to spray in a crimson deluge around him. Another blue-demon fell down. He was making such a mess of things. Galahad grabbed again his bow and killed another shooter hidden in the bushes. One down… Ten to go… They were surrounded. He dismounted and ran behind Tanjin who was having fun dismembering one man in front of his comrades. He let go of his fleshy human toy as he felt Galahad's warmth on his back.

- I hope you have a plan.

- A plan? What's that? Tanjin smirked with bloodied lips.

Galahad caught a glimpse of his eyes gleaming with bloodlust.

- Idiot! We are outnumbered. We have to go back to the others. That's what Arthur would want. For once, you should listen to me.

- They killed him. They will pay dearly. I won't rest until I taste all their blood.

Licking his blood-stained lips, Tanjin gestured to his next target. The man who stood in front of him was twice his size. Galahad sighed. He hated that Tanjin was so stubborn he could never be practical about things. He needed Arthur or Lancelot more than ever.

– Now! Tanjin growled.

Galahad slid down on his knees like they repeated so many times during training session. Tanjin soared in the air in a backflip, taking momentum on the chest of the man behind Galahad, he jumped again, his legs encircling the giant as he thrust his blade inside his throat. Tanjin tasted blood again as it gushed out of his arteries. The man died kneeling and Tanjin felt some satisfaction when he was frozen in such a humiliating position for eternity.

- See! That's what I really hate about you. You never listen to anyone. But now is not the time to quarrel even I know that! Galahad shouted exasperated.

Tanjin slashed one arm and a chest before Galahad could even finish his rant. Galahad growled as a fist connected with his jaw, sending him backwards. He just had the time to avoid another blow. He rolled on the ground avoiding the sharp edge of an axe. Tanjin kicked his opponent away giving him time to get back on his feet.

On the other hand, poor Galahad stepped on another native and avoided being sliced open by his sword. He unsheathed his sword at last and sidestepped him skillfully to cut his sides almost in half. A sword caught a strand of Galahad's curly mane from behind and seeing as Tanjin was facing him, he clasped hands with the prince and launched him the air. In a flurry of motions, Tanjin used his sword and feet against four more woads while Galahad was taking care of the remaining three. They were out of breath by the time the last one was disposed of.

- I thought it was because I was bloodthirsty and a little bit wild on the battlefield.

A…bit…wild… Was he joking? He made a mess.

- What?

- That you hated me?!

- That too… What's important is that you don't deserve her, Tanjin. She's above you.

- Amery?

- Yes, of course, Amery.

- It's always about her. Tanjin noted, his eyes narrowing slightly.

- She is everything to me. Galahad growled back.

Tanjin held his hips breathlessly.

- But you let her go…

- I didn't.

- You didn't fight for her.

- I should have?

- Probably not. I'd have killed you then.

- You're full of yourself.

- You dared touch me. Tanjin said very seriously. I should punish you for that alone.

- You forced yourself on her!

- You wish! You wish you were my equal. But that's okay, you can still train, Galahad.

- I can't believe you can brag while we're losing ground in this battle. What is it with you and this superior complex of yours, Tanjin?! Can't you see what's real and what's not?

- I'm telling you. You wish you were me, Galahad. Admit it. There is nothing wrong with that.

- You are the most incomprehensible human being.

- So I am no longer a monster. I miss the title. In your mouth, it showed respect at least.

Galahad remained silent.

- Listen, Galahad, I don't want to talk about it. I'm still pissed over Melan. But I understand your frustration. I was the youngest once.

- You think it is some sort of bloody rivalry between brothers.

- Is it not?

- Tanjin, I was in love with her!

- I get it… Stop using these grand words as if you mean them!

- No, you don't… get it, you prick! I actually mean this. You betrayed me. I trusted you. You betrayed me.

- You trusted me?

- On some level. 'Course, I did!

Tanjin frowned as if in deep thought.

- I did not know that.

- How could you not know?!

- The same reason you gave up on her. I simply did not know. I was never the oldest.

He moaned seemingly aggravated by the personal turn the conversation had taken.

- You are unbelievable! You know that?!

- I really don't think now is the time to talk about that and to get all angry on me.

Galahad spun around.

- On the contrary, I think the timing is perfect. You want me to fight for her?

Galahad unsheathed his sword and aimed it at Tanjin's throat. Green eyes narrowed on him angrily.

- If you die here, nobody would know.

- The same could be said to you. That is logic.

Tanjin pushed out the blade in his gloves and clenched the hilt of his sword tight. They circled each other slowly. However Galahad dropped his weapon and Tanjin lowered his defenses at the same moment. Tears streamed down his chin. Galahad's resolve was shaken.

- You're aggravating! Don't you see what you're doing to me! I don't like the person I am when I am beside you! I don't want to become a monster of selfishness and greed. I don't want to be jealous of you. I do not want to be so weak.

Tanjin heaved a sigh. He took a step forward. Galahad took a step back. Tanjin tentatively reached for his face. Despite his initial recoiling, Galahad finally let small and bloody fingers drew him closer. Galahad leaned down and Tanjin climbed on his tiptoes and whispered in his ears.

- Fight it if you will, I like the person I am when I'm next to you. I am better. You forced me to be better than I am. I like that about you, Galahad.

His eyes widened shocked by Tanjin's admission. He stared in the depth of green again. Finally, Tanjin shrugged as he lowered his gaze to the ground. He stepped away.

- You can have her if you want her back. She is my friend. She does like you more than she let on. I will help you. But you have to promise that you won't ever ignore me again. I don't really like it when you do that.

- You will help me? Why? Don't you love her?

- I care for her very much. Amery is kind, resourceful, smart, clingy, annoying and seriously pretty. She is as warm as the sun in the sky. Her skin is so soft also. Did you notice?

Galahad frowned in confusion. Tanjin sighed.

- But I can't love, I think. I care for her the same way I care for Duncan or… Melan… They are friends...They are family. I cared for Melan very much. But I don't know if it is love. No, definitely…I think this is not your kind of senseless idiotic unrequited love.

Without warning, Tanjin choked back his own tears. He covered his face with his hand, mortified.

- Why Galahad? I cannot protect anyone. Why is that?

He groaned at his own weakness. Galahad patted his shoulder feeling suddenly just as miserable.

- What happened was… I don't know why it happened, Tanjin. I know you were really close. I know it was not your fault back there. I promise we will get our revenge!

- How very touching is this scene! I am moved!

Tanjin spun around in defensive stance. Galahad grabbed his sword back. A man came out of the gloom. Tall with bony features, his skin was white as snow. His face had multiple blue designs on it. His eyes were strangely cold and emotionless.

- I am sorry to intrude on such a poignant scene. Let me introduce myself first. I am Aud Askin, the humble owner of this land.

The man spoke in the common tongue with a heavy accent.

- The owner of this land? Galahad asked.

- Well, my kingdom grew in one night just like the garden of the Gods. I am a blessed man. You must be Artorius Castus' wild dogs.

- Who did you call a dog, old man? Tanjin groaned.

- Oh, I see the dog does not know its name. What is your name then, little dog?

Tanjin exchanged a glance with Galahad. Who did this ugly old man think he was? Why was he speaking like this? The hand of Galahad clasped his right shoulder tightly. Tanjin shrugged it away. Unlike Galahad, he was not afraid of some foolish twig-like man with a penchant for using boring and weird phrasing. No, watch him dispose of this pretentious fellow! He launched an attack without warning. As he tried to strike his throat with his right leg, he was surprisingly halted mid-air as an arrow pierced flesh and tore his muscles in one strike. Tanjin let out an almost inaudible sound as he struggled to not collapse from the pain.

- Tanjin! Galahad roared.

Effortlessly, Aud deflected his attack and pushed Tanjin to his knees. When the Hun refused to kneel despite the pain contorting his features, Aug grabbed one of his arms and tore it down in one motion. He watched with cold and calculated eyes as pain shot through Tanjin's already hazy mind. He was partially amused that the boy still managed to stay standing. It was fascinating really.

Tanjin knew that kind of pain. No wolf of Attila's pack could live his life without once acknowledging the true extent of his tolerance for pain. He was even more used to it than his brothers. He had to work more and to train more. He struggled to be faster and stronger. His skin had grown thicker over the years. Still pain was pain. But to learn to be unyielding and unbending as a rock from the Deep Mountains, you had to learn how to accept it. So Tanjin seek that place in his mind where he used to go to escape from it. It was a cold and sterile place where nothing grew even unwanted thoughts. Tanjin gasped as he struggled, willing his body to go still, his knees to be iron under him, his body to not touch the ground. If he kneeled, he was lost. If he kneeled he would be better dead… Glassy eyes stared blankly ahead. He felt his arm being torn from his body like the wing of a fly. He crawled deeper into that hole in his heart. The voice of Galahad was fainting in the background. Even though he wished to respond to Galahad in some ways, he could not emit anymore sound.

- Tanjin! Tanjin!

- I asked a question, little puppy.

Galahad froze. Aud applied more pressure on Tanjin's arm, delighted to see the light fade slowly in his eyes. His eyes rolled in their orbits. He remained still.

- He is Tanjin and I am Galahad! Please don't hurt him further!

Galahad managed to choke down.

- Good, dogs can speak. Very good indeed. Impressive dogs.

He let go of Tanjin's arm. Tanjin reeled back until he fell limply into Galahad's arms. Galahad caught the Hun Prince before he fell to the ground.

- Galahad… Tanjin moaned groggily.

- It's okay, Tanjin. I got you.

- No…Run…

Galahad was so shocked by Tanjin's words he felt his strength temporarily desert him. He never heard Tanjin flee a conflict before. It was chilling.

Aud smirked.

- I like those eyes. Those are intriguing and very entertaining. You two will come with me. I have many questions for little dogs.

Galahad tensed. What Questions?

- We will not answer to any of your questions!

Aud bent his head to the side seemingly even more amused.

- You prefer to die, idiotic dog.

- Right. I prefer death. Galahad stated.

- That's brave.

Aud leaned over them and grabbed Tanjin by the throat again. Before Galahad could move, he was surrounded by two men. A minute later, they were joined by many more.

- I see. This little dog likes to fight too. Maybe I should break one first and see what is inside.

Tanjin opened his eyes and sniggered.

- Oh what is so amusing to little dog?

- Nothing! Tanjin said before spitting blood on Aud's face.

Enraged, Aud threw him against a tree knocking the air out of his lungs. Tanjin let out another painful gasp.

- No! Please stop hurting him! I swear…if you…

Aud ignored Galahad's threats and pleas. His face stained with blood, he stared coldly into the depth of emerald irises.

- So this puppy wants to play now… I am not against it.

His left arm dislocated, Tanjin struggled again to break free but Aud who was way stronger than he looked had a very firm grip on his throat.

- Let's see if I can carve my name into my new puppy.

His blade cut deep into the leather vest and grazed his skin. Tanjin grew even more agitated. Droplets of blood stained the Woad Leader's blade successfully. He did not have time to escape from the pain this time. His eyes flinched as he felt the blade slowly carve its ways into his stomach. But suddenly Aud pulled out.

- Wait a minute… Looks like my favorite pet has a secret.

Frightened, Tanjin tried to avoid his inquisitive stare.

- Leader… Artorius and his men, they are faring better than we thought. Should we send for more men now?

- No, let them be. I will play with them later.

- But we have the advantage now!

Tanjin closed his eyes, wishing he could shut the pain by doing so, and wishing that by doing so, fears will stop creeping its ways into him.

- Be quiet! I gave you an order. Don't you see how busy I am?

Aud renewed the pressure on his throat.

- Let me see those eyes, little dog… They are something. They are so intriguing.

Glassy eyes stared blankly ahead. Tanjin stood pinned to the tree.

- Don't touch him! Galahad yelled again. I swear I will kill you if you do!

- Oh and this jawline is quite unique! Tell me your secret, little puppy.

Tanjin couldn't help the tears in his eyes. By the time, Aud sheathed his bloody sword with the other hand. Tanjin was completely frozen in shock.

- Let me guess… Something tells me it's hidden here…

Aud grabbed the laces of his leather vest. Tanjin could not breathe as an indescribable fear seized him.

- Let him go, you sick old man!

Then the leather gave away and his shirt was torn off. Galahad's mouth opened in silent stupor. His eyes widened in surprise. Under Tanjin's clothes, he caught a glimpse of tattooed skin. A tiger sitting on his ribs stared Galahad's down. Behind a constricting binder of cloth, the Hun was hiding a girl's chest. _Tanjin?_

- This is the… secret. What a lovely secret! Now, that is a special dog! Master is so happy and proud! We will be having so much fun.

The woods was suddenly noisy.

- No way! Called a man. It was a girl who did Padrig in.

- A woman! They fight with women now… Just like that traitor, Merlin.

- I saw her fight. That's impossible. I mean nobody can fight like this. She is a demon.

- Look at her, it's obvious she's foreign like all his dogs. I wish I could have a taste of her.

With one hand, Aud silenced his men.

- Those specials puppies are mine only.

Green eyes went vacant. His breathing became shallow. Aud let go of him with a sneer. Like a blown candle, life deserted Tanjin at once. He stumbled and collapsed on the ground, face first.

- Tanjin, wake up! Tanjin!

Aud turned to Galahad with a diplomatic smile.

- So, little dog, do you want to die now?

His devious smile disappeared.

- Or do you want to see that little bitch suffer before you do?

Galahad looked at him fearfully. He didn't know what to say. His eyes were as blank as his mind. He did not struggle much when they grabbed him and disarmed him. When they pulled a dark sack over his head, he felt a chill run down his spine. Tanjin, his arch nemesis… His rival… Tanjin was a girl. Tanjin was trapped in a girl's body. There was no way they could escape this.

Morgan felt a chill ran down her spine. She clenched her chest for a while in need of air. She felt light-headed for a brief moment. Then the pain subdued itself. She could breathe again. A raven croaked in the sky. She stretched her hand out to the bird. She watched him wander on her arm until he set down on her fingers. She looked intently into the creature's black eyes, her grey eyes unflinching. She listened to what he had to say to her. Then when he was finished, she set him free with sorrowful eyes.

Now was not a good time at all. Little sister had to wait. She had to be strong again on her own. Morgan was tied not only to tradition but she was also in charge of executing the will of the Goddess. Now was definitely not a good time. Any other days, the Morrigans would have chased those evil men from these lands. But the rule was clear. Blood could not be spilled during mourning time. She knew about what was going on outside these walls. Forgetting the orders of things, Aud claimed the land to himself, the land that belonged initially to the Goddess. Aud, she felt another chill just thinking about him. He had been Merlin's second in command at the time where Merlin was still Morgan's father. But Aud broke away from the Original council. He no longer listened to the elders. He mobilized his own army against all laws and severed his ties with Merlin and the other clan leaders. A few months ago, a concerned Merlin, had even sent a message requesting for an audience with Mother Vivian. It was that girl who delivered it, the girl who was supposed to replace her. But Vivian was already sick at the time. Sickness was the same as death for the Morrigans. As a man, Merlin was not allowed to set foot in Avalon, not even to visit one last time his rightful wife. Now, she was gone only leaving young Morgan to fill in her place. No daughters of the goddess will participate in battle as long as twenty days or so had not expired, when on a full moon the Wild child will leave behind her childhood and rise from the mist and ashes to turn into the Lady of the Lake. Twenty days were a long time.

She could only sit and watch. No, she could only pray.

She could only pray that the Goddess be merciful on them all.

- Morgan?

She came out of her trance abruptly.

- It is time.

She nodded and grabbed the torch. Her eyes clouded with tears, she set the craft on fire and watched helplessly as it floated against the gentle wave, taking with it her mother to her place where she could not be followed yet.

* * *

R&R please.


	22. A Tale of Two Cities

-22-

**A tale of two cities**

The sun played hide and seek behind a curtain of white clouds. Summer was coming to a slow painful end. The atmosphere was heavy and it took a long time for the smoke to clear the field. The battle died down progressively after a couple of hours and the field was disconcertingly quiet for a brief moment as if life suspended itself. It was as if this brief moment of peace was needed so that the few survivors of this insane carnage could digest what happened.

Sweat on his brow, Aggravain took a deep breath as he surveyed the battlefield searching for his brother. He was reminded of the green of the seemingly endless fields of Samartia where Gawain, Gareth and him played as children. He took in the macabre scene in front of him. This place was definitely not children playground. Did that mean he was no longer a child? Yes, it probably meant that. He picked up his mace with a sigh and looked up again. His blond locks muddy and grimy, shining under the sun, instead of Gawain, Aggravain found Blaez. Blaez was helping a wounded Percival to his horse. Aggravain observed them without a word. He was briefly taken at that moment by a strange fear. What if something happened to Gawain?

- Brother?

Aggravain sighed and spun towards Gawain and gone was the weigh constricting his heart. The brothers immediately fell into each other's arms, chuckling happily.

- Are you alright? We got separated. I was a tad worried when I could not find you. It was crazy out there.

- Yes, but I was not far from Tristan. You know it is the safest place to be. Gawain stated matter-of-factly.

Gawain remembered being forcefully pushed in front of Tristan and Tristan almost slashing him in half by accident. He was probably exaggerating when he deemed it to be the safest place on a battlefield. Tristan was a lone fighter most of the time. That lethal precision he perfected training could be scary during combat. He was always in control, stopping his sword just before it met with skin, freezing instead of evading an attack, sidestepping instead of going forward frankly. If it was someone else, he'd met an accidental death for sure.

Gawain was very impressed as he was more of a clumsy and messy fighter. He was not disciplined enough to plan a strategy beforehand. He preferred in all honesty going for the throat or the guts of his opponents and see what happens. It was more or less effective. He was always the last one standing until now. On the other hand Tristan's efficiency on the battlefield was off the chart almost like Lancelot, Arthur, or the Hun. Lancelot was an extremely competent swordsman. He was evenly talented using both hands and was then twice as dangerous as a result. As good-natured he could be in life, he was cunning and ruthless when fighting. However unlike Tristan he never fought alone or for his own survival. He was always fighting side by side with Arthur or any one of them and that made him an even more outstanding warrior and a very valuable comrade.

Arthur was different. He elevated war to some kind of art or discipline. There was a certain sophistication in the way he engaged himself in battle, for instance leaving chances to his opponent when nothing except an ancient code of honor compel him too. The Hun… Well, he did not even want to go there. Tanjin was brutal and bloodthirsty, he was sure it had been stated enough. He could make a terrible mess of a human being then with a grin he would ask for meat and supper. He gave the impression of being one sloppy warrior just like Gawain. Still, their fighting style could not be more dissimilar. The most impressive was that Tanjin behaved like a precise machine of war or like a well-trained beast depending on the point of view of the observer. His body memorized thousands of sequences. He moved swiftly instinctively knowing where to strike to cause the more damage. Gawain struck and mostly left things to fate. Tanjin annihilated his enemy leaving them with no chance of recovery. Except on that fateful night with Flavius Sextus, he never killed anyone outside of the battlefield.

Gawain felt like he had a long road in front of him if he wanted to catch up to any of them. He was glad enough that he did manage to survive without hindering Tristan too much. Aggravain was just glad enough he still had a brother with whom he could exchange jokes. He held onto him a little longer and sighed.

- I guess it is. Next time, I will think about it. I'm glad you are alright, brother.

Aggravain smiled tiredly at last. Gawain picked up an undetermined piece of human flesh in his younger brother's dirty hair with a disgusted frown.

- You look terrible, Gawain. Aggravain said, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

He was the one to talk. He looked worse. How could he smile so happily when he looked like he could barely stand? Gawain wondered.

- I do? You're not winning any charming contest yourself right now.

Aggravain laughed heartily in answer.

With a groan, Duncan suddenly sat up a few feet from the brothers. He was half buried under a pile of corpses. The brown-haired held his chest in search of an injury. Finding none, he heaved a sigh of relief.

- What did I miss?

- The end of the world as we know it. Gawain chuckled.

- Need some help?! Aggravain added. Or did you just take a good nap?

- Na…I got knocked down by some guy.

- I bet he was humongous.

- He probably was… for him to knock the wind out of me.

- Yes, I think I saw the guy. Tall, ugly, dumb. I killed him. He must be over that pile somewhere.

- Thanks, according to Hun lore, you're probably a good friend.

- You're welcome. That's nice coming from a samartian.

- I can't believe I let myself be surprised like that?

- These things do happen. Aggravain commented.

- I'm still alive though. Duncan noted bemused.

- Yes, you happen to be. It's great news, isn't it? Aggravain said, raising his hands in the air dramatically. Let's rejoice together!

Duncan spit down some dirt.

- Speaking of Hun lore, where's Tanjin?

- I don't know. I was also wondering where Galahad was. Gawain said. Do you think they finally killed each other?

Aggravain shook his head, skeptical.

- No, we're not that lucky. They are probably sulking somewhere! Stop the brooding, you two! Let's rejoice, I say! We are alive! We won!

In the midst of rejoicing, Aggravain almost did not notice Callan waving in his direction. Andreas yawned swiftly as he passed by.

- Hey, here comes Arthur! Gawain announced.

Duncan turned around. Arthur and Tristan were leaning over a wounded Lancelot.

- Lancelot is wounded? How is that even possible?

- These things do happen, I tell you. What about celebrating?

- He must be in a foul mood. Let's go tease him! Gawain said.

Duncan frowned. Where was Tanjin? And Galahad? He couldn't see Scourge either.

- They should not be far. Don't worry.

Gawain said as if he could read his mind. He helped Duncan to his feet. They approached the group.

Lancelot was lying on his back, his sides slashed diagonally from his navel to the middle of his ribcage. However ugly it looked, it did not seem like the wound had touched any vital points or that his life was in any immediate danger.

- Lancelot? Are you alright? Duncan asked.

- I feel amazing. I think I can walk… or fly like a bird. It's confusing. Can somebody fetch Melan for me?

- Tristan already went… Muttered Braden. Be patient.

. With a little snicker, Bors handed Lancelot his skin filled with ale.

- That could also do the trick, thanks Bors. What will I do without you? Lancelot said as he sipped a mouthful of the content.

- Piss blood on yourself in bloody agony?

- Thank Arthur's God for your mother then!

- You are a pain when you are ill. Arthur grunted, speaking for the first time.

- I sense some right amount of irritation in your voice, captain. It worries me since the Hun is not here.

- You had to get hurt. I told you to not overdo it. I was taking care of it. You never listen, Lancelot.

- Are we doing the "I told you" now because I may have a lot of concerns myself I want to share with you?

Arthur raised an eyebrow at that, even more annoyed. Aloysius pushed past Bors to crouch next to Lancelot. He looked embarrassed for a minute. If Lancelot hadn't been there, leaving his own sides unprotected, almost at the cost of his life, Aloysius would probably have joined his father prematurely.

- You protected me during the battle. I'd be dead if it was not for you. I can never thank you enough, Lancelot.

- You are welcome, young master. But I know just how you can thank me… Tell your wonderful sister how much of a good man I am.

Aloysius frowned before smiling back.

- I will tell Yseult to never get close to you. You're too much of a good man.

They laughed whole-heartedly.

- See, Lancelot, the kid is making progress. No hope is lost. He knows how to answer the likes of you. I feel proud. Bors taunted. Also Lance? Dagonet, Braden and I were wondering did you see Arthur's God.

Arthur shook his head but smiled nonetheless.

- Yes and it was a woman. Very pretty. So very pretty.

Tristan finally came back from the ruins, riding Illyria.

- Tristan? You are alone? Where's Melan? How is Danis doing?

Tristan swallowed hard. He dismounted. What he was about to say was not easy. How to tell such news? He went for direct, quick and painless.

- Dead.

Arthur stood to face him.

- What? Danis died?

- Both of them are dead.

There was an uncomfortable silence and smiles immediately vanished from all faces. Suddenly, they were all talking at the same time.

- Who did you say was dead? Blaez inquired.

- What happened to Danis again? Percival whispered in his cousin's ears.

- Why are they dead?

- Dead… like really dead? Are you sure? Andreas asked.

- Melan is dead?! What? And Tanjin? Is Tanjin okay? Duncan asked anxiously.

- I saw Danis fall. But Melan, where is he? Arthur asked confused.

Tristan focused his attention on Arthur.

- They were shot down by arrows. Danis and Melan that is. He explained coldly.

- Where are Galahad and Tanjin?

- Missing.

- Missing?

- I did not find them.

- Well, why are you here then?! Find them! Arthur shouted back.

Tristan did not move an inch knowing Arthur's temper was always short-lived. Arthur heaved a sigh. He stepped away from the others for a moment. The knights watched him without exchanging any words as he paced in the field littered with corpses.

Despite his sudden nausea, Arthur could not waver. He could not allow himself to grieve yet. He came back to the group.

- I am sorry, Tristan. I was out of line earlier. You did well. We should proceed carefully. They are still many more woads in that forest. Lancelot, do you think you can ride?

- Oh yeah! I may not be gracious right now. But I can ride. We need to find our favorite fools and allow me to beat the crap out of them for disobeying orders.

- That's the problem. I don't think they disobeyed orders. Percival intervened. It was pure madness out there.

- It's Tanjin you never know. Blaez stated matter-of-factly.

- Let's not draw hasty conclusions here, Blaez! We don't know what happened! Still, Tanjin always gave us more worries than we could settle before bedtime. Andreas chimed in.

- But Galahad never disobeys orders. Gawain countered. Something must have happened if they're not here.

Arthur opened his mouth to say something. It was obvious that something dramatic must have happen for them to fall out of line. Galahad may be at that rebellious stage but he was quite responsible during missions and even Tanjin knew better. Finally he said nothing since he could not say anything without voicing at the same time his main concern, that they may be already dead.

- Count everyone, Braden. Make it quick.

Braden nodded.

- Blaez, can you gather the dead with Bors?

Blaez shrugged and nodded.

- We will take them back with us. Take Marcus too. I am sorry but I don't think we will have time for the rest of the ninth legion. I am counting on you, Blaez.

- Let's make a big fire to clean this place, Bors!

- Percival, you're wounded. Will you be okay?

- It's a slight gash. I am fine. We need to find them before it's too dark. I am going with Tristan.

Arthur nodded and turned to Aloysius.

- We will bury your father back home if that is alright with you.

Aloysius nodded.

- How can I help, Arthur? I want to help.

Arthur frowned but nodded gingerly.

- You will. You need to stay with Tristan and Percival. Your knowledge of the area will come in handy. Lancelot, I will take care of your wounds with Dagonet now.

- It can wait. Let's go find them. The more we wait…

Gawain and Aggravain helped Lancelot to his feet.

- The more we wait, the lesser chance I will get to beat the living crap out of them for worrying us.

- But your wounds…

- I can ride.

Lancelot said as he stood awkwardly.

- Just like Percy, I am perfectly fine.

Lancelot whistled for his horse. She came back running after a brief instant. Arthur patted his back gently.

- Please, don't overwork yourself.

Lancelot shrugged as he tried to climb back on his mount though climbing back was not as easy as falling down. Braden finally returned.

- Out of fifty, we are down to thirty-seven. They lost their leader. Plato is dead. As for the samartian knights, we were all accounted for except for the two missing and of course Danis and Melan.

- Good, you will lead Tiberius faction since Aloysius will ride with Tristan. I want everybody on horse now.

Braden and Gawain helped Lancelot on his horse. Tristan came back again.

- Their horses are definitely missing. I found a trail. I think they are in the forest.

- I knew it. Tanjin… what did you do? Arthur sighed.

- My guess is…, Tristan started.

- He went for revenge… For Melan…Duncan continued. Galahad followed him. You told them to stay together.

- I did and it may be their only chance of survival.

* * *

Arthur's statement was not proven right however. The research for Galahad and Tanjin remained fruitless. They easily followed their trail into the edge of the forest. Duncan recognized several tracks belonging to Scourge and Sage. They also found a few limbs and hints of a terribly violent fight as blood prints were splattered over rocks and trees. Gawain found a body chopped in half confirming that the Hun and Galahad have been there at one point. But except for a piece of Tanjin's leather vest and Galahad's knife, there were no traces of the two boys. The search continued until it was too dark to see anything. Then, Arthur decided to suspend the research for the night and join their campsite despite Duncan's protests that they may be close to their target.

Oddly enough, they stumbled upon Sage on their way back. Galahad's mare was wandering without master a little further on the east border of Broceliande. Scourge was still reportedly missing.

Arthur refused to go deeper into the woods for now. It was only a solution of last resort. They were not there yet.

Not only was he exhausted but hope started to desert him at the mere sight of Galahad's wandering mare. It was always bad news when a horse wandered without its master. It means the master was either hurt or dead. It could also mean the master had been captured. Seeing as they didn't find the bodies on the struggle scene, he was leaning toward this hypothesis. It was sending chills to the back of his neck.

If he had to judge a man by his military strategies, he'd say Aud was a cold and manipulative leader. He noticed it earlier. The woads did not behave in their usual pattern. He could not recognize Merlin's way of doing things to be more precise. Aud was smarter it seems and more cunning. Arthur was beginning to think that he allowed Aloysius and his sister to reach safety behind the wall on purpose. All along, it seems like the only objectives was to lure them to Epithelium. However when he had the advantage of the number, he didn't take it, very much like a capricious child. It meant he was probably lunatic. Lunatics were unpredictable. He let them live for one more day. Why? Why did he target Epithelium after so long? Why destroying the city after all these years? It was never Merlin's policy to kill everyone and sacrifice valuable infrastructures. He was unfortunately the living proof of that. Aud did not let anyone escape except for Aloysius and his sister. It had to have a deeper meaning. One thing was for sure; as long as they knew nothing about the enemies' motives they were not ready for battle.

He sighed.

There was also the matter of Lancelot and Percival's injuries. They pushed themselves for the sake of the two youngest. Lancelot would probably deny it. But his injury may be more severe than he let on. He knew Lancelot like the back of his hand. He could dance all night with a damsel in each arm suffering from the worse fever. No, those injuries had to be treated quickly and seriously. Now that Melan was not here, only Arthur and Dagonet had enough knowledge to care for everyone. He had to say his knowledge was very basic in comparison of Melan's knowledge of medicinal plants. Dagonet fared better than him in those aspects but he was not great on the surgical part. Melan is… was… irreplaceable.

He remembered how Tanjin brought a shy Melan in his room last winter. He was barely back on his feet after the trial.

_"Tanjin, I told you already. You cannot barge into my study like that. It's common etiquette that you wait for…"_

_Needless to say, he was completely ignored by the Hun prince. _

"_Say, Arthur, Melan said he wanted to become useful. Hear him out! " Tanjin said hastily._

_Arthur's gaze went from one boy to another. With fidgeting fingers, Tanjin started playing with his maps and scrolls on the desk. Melan stood awkwardly in the middle of the strategy room looking as if the cat ate his tongue. _

_"Come on, talk to him!" Tanjin pressed him again with more authority. _

_Arthur frowned. _

_"You're making me waste my time, you wimp! Just tell him! "_

_"Tanjin, please!"_

_"But he just had the best idea and now he won't talk about it! It's very frustrating when he does that especially since he knows I dislike this type of behavior so much. He makes me want to beat him up… again." _

_Tanjin growled and his fist clenched on a scroll. Arthur grabbed the scroll back from his grubby hands and patted his shoulder to calm his restlessness. _

_"I understand. It is perfectly fine for you to go now." Arthur said smiling as he showed Tanjin the door._

_The Hun crossed his arms on his chest stubbornly. _

_"But he said I had to come with him…"_

_"You did well, Tanjin. It was a very friendly thing to do. You can go now."_

_Tanjin's fiery gaze softened immediately. _

_"Melan, you are going to ask him right? It's quite important that you do because if I am wounded I want only you to care for me. I truly trust you the most."_

_Melan turned to Tanjin, eyes wide. Arthur was also astonished by Tanjin's sudden admission. Melan swallowed hard and wiped the tears in his eyes. He took a deep breath and nodded. _

_"Arthur… Captain… I want to become a healer. I want to officially become an apprentice if it's not too much to ask."_

_Arthur raised an eyebrow at that. _

_"Melan, it would mean less training in the fields. Do you know what you're asking?"_

_"I… imagine it would. But it would also mean… that I could study more. Tanjin is right. I am not useful the way I am on the field now. I want to help more … I also want to become the best at what I do."_

_Tanjin nodded silently, biting nervously his lower lips. Arthur heaved a sigh, focusing his attention on Melan. Before he could say anything though, Tanjin added eagerly. _

_"Before you say no, Arthur, I am the one who will look after him on the battlefield. You need not worry. I swear on the blood of my father and the blood of my mother… It sounds all wrong. No, it's better if I swear on the blood of Keda… What I meant to say is that I will not let him die. I will protect him as if he was my blood…That's it…As if he was my blood. I promise."_

_ His answer was evident from the start. As unusual was the request, Arthur never thought for a second of denying Melan the right to choose his own path. He also not only found it beneficial to the cavalry but he could see Melan had put a great amount of thoughts in this and even more surprising Tanjin did too. He stared at the two boys again. _

_He nodded his approval with a smile._

Melan grew a lot in the past few years. He was so shy when he joined them, he barely spoke in public. Then to his own amazement, Melan befriended the Hun and followed him like his shadow. Melan was such a gentle soul Arthur could not say he approved of this friendship in the beginning. But surprisingly enough, Soft-spoken Melan had been a rather good influence on Tanjin. Even better, since that day in the study, Arthur discovered they were a good influence on one another.

He could only imagine how Melan's death had affected Tanjin and his already poor judgment. He wondered if the death of his men had not affected his own judgment and to which extent.

Lancelot was getting paler by the minute. But he kept joking with Bors, Blaez and Braden about what they'd do to the youngest as penalty when they find them. Tristan was strangely quiet and reserved. He was always taciturn but never to this extent. It was to the point of it being unnerving. He was so still and detached. Something was definitely amiss. Was he grieving for Melan? Was he worried for Galahad and Tanjin? Arthur closed his eyes in silent prayer. But he realized he was unable to utter one prayer.

They built a camp outside the forest close to Stonehenge. It was eerily quiet if it was not for the chant of cicadas and the screams of the carrion birds still roaming the battlefield. None of the knights were in the mood to do much. He did not give any more orders. Instead, Arthur patched up Lancelot and Percival with the help of Dagonet with the means at hand. Percival's gash was really not deep. So they only needed to clean his wound with water. Lancelot was another matter. However, they decided against cauterizing for now, much to Lancelot's relief. Instead, they used a medicinal ointment found in Melan's satchel and Dagonet gave them a broth. Then Arthur sent the two of them to rest.

He was taking care of the dead now since he could not sleep. He was reminded of the time he took care of Finn. He felt the same agitation in his heart. Danis had his jawbone crushed by the arrow so much he looked almost unrecognizable. The skin of Melan was so pale, due to exsanguination, that it was almost translucent. It was barely the Melan he knew. Melan had rosy cheekbones and hair a bright auburn. He was always blushing for some reason just like a girl. Now that color had deserted his skin, he looked for the first time like a man…A very brave man. He wondered in which state he will find Galahad and Tanjin. Lancelot stood unsteadily behind him. His best friend leaned awkwardly against a tree.

- You should be resting, Lancelot.

- I am fine. Stop being a mother hen.

- You can barely stand.

- It was not your fault.

- It was a bad decision.

- You had to take a decision anyway.

- I took a bad decision. I always do.

- You know you can't save us all.

- I am trying though.

- What I am trying to say is that… It is enough that you're trying. It's enough for us.

Arthur froze.

- Well, it's not enough for me! I am sick of this madness!

Lancelot sighed.

- I heard you last time with Aloysius.

- What?

- Something about me wanting to be a farmer and marrying one woman only, my true soul mate. Could you be any more dramatic?

- I said that?

Arthur turned to look at him amused.

- Yeah, you were really inspired at that time.

Arthur shrugged.

- Well, I do have those moments when…

- You did not tell that boy what it is that you dream about. Why is that?

- I only want you to have your freedom back.

- At the cost of your own happiness…

- I am not as selfless as you think I am, Lancelot. I do not have grand dreams about myself. I recalled earlier that Melan wanted to become useful. He wanted to protect and help his friends. It was finally all he could do in life. Maybe I am just like him…

Lancelot said nothing in return. He was starting to feel exhausted. He staggered holding a trump of tree for support. Arthur knew better than to offer his help.

- I can't believe they are dead and each time it's the same thing. Finn, Oran, Agglovale… Shouldn't we get used to it at one point?

- I don't want to get used to it. Arthur said as he enveloped Melan's body with dark linens.

Lancelot kneeled with a grimace to help him seal the corpse under the drapes.

- It would not be fair to you if I did. Arthur repeated.

- See, that's why we respect you.

- Duncan did not seem to think so earlier.

- He is mostly worried like any one of us. Hell, I missed both brats. It's way too quiet now. We really need to find them. But we will cross the woods as last resort like we said. We're not there yet.

- Do you think they will attack again?

- Yup. Definitely.

- Do you think by some miracle we stand a chance?

- If it was half as bad as today?

- Yes.

- Nope. Not a chance in hell.

- You are always so comforting.

- You are very welcome my friend. I will always be that tiny annoying voice in the back of your head.

- I like it this way too. Lancelot, go get some rest. You are such a pain when you feel weak.

Lancelot gave him a mischievous wink.

- Hey, I think that kid of yours likes me. You may even celebrate my wedding to his sister as soon as we're back to the fortress. Isn't that good news? I will leave you with those positive thoughts.

Arthur could not help but smile. As soon as Lancelot was out of view, his smile vanished. He stood watch over the bodies of Melan and Danis all night.

* * *

For its part, Tristan turned and rolled all night. He opened his eyes to see his hawk circling the sky chased by a raven. There were no traces of clouds for once in the neutral sky. The sun was already rising behind the hills. He felt like he had not slept at all. However he abandoned the idea of finding some much needed sleep since it was already so late. He was surprised to find Arthur and Duncan already awake around the fire. He sat beside them without a word and grabbed something to eat in the stock. Bors and Braden woke up at the same time so that it was suddenly a little bit quieter without their snores. Gawain and Aggravain got up at last.

- We are getting ready to go? Gawain asked.

Lost in his thoughts, it took Arthur a while to answer. He nodded. Lancelot was not awake yet though. Tristan sliced an apple in half. The knights continued to gather one by one. He munched on the fruit silently tapping his foot on the ground.

- Are we going to go into the woods this time?

Arthur remained quiet. Bors handed the roman some bread. Aloysius sat down next to Gawain after thanking Bors.

- Arthur?

Arthur looked up to see Tristan in front of him.

- Do you want to go ahead, Tristan? I don't think it's wise. Arthur said tiredly. We will be going with you this time.

- No, I have something to tell you.

Arthur nodded. Tristan looked up knowing they were all watching.

- It's about something you asked me not too long ago.

Arthur frowned. Duncan listened intently. Tristan hesitated.

- We don't have all day! Bors muttered, half annoyed, half amused by Tristan's strange behavior.

Arthur scowled at him. Tristan retreated back to where he was sitting. He sat down than he got up again. Tristan found himself unable to think these days. He wanted quiet. He wanted peace again.

- It's about Tanjin.

Arthur got up too. He never saw Tristan so anxious before.

- Yes, what about him?

Tristan swallowed the words once again. He could not do direct, quick and painless this time.

- It's… a detail… an insignificant detail… It was inconsequential before. It did not matter…at all.

- What about Tanjin? Duncan urged him.

Arthur gestured for him to calm down.

- What is it? What is the matter with Tanjin, Tristan?

Tristan gasped ever so slightly. He was suddenly so short of breath. He looked like he'd seen a ghost, except the Tristan he knew did not believe in ghost.

- Tristan? You're worrying me. What is it with Tanjin?! Arthur asked again.

- It's complicated.

- Say it! Duncan shouted back, losing his temper. Could you tell the bloody truth for once in your life?

- Tristan, what is it that you're trying to say!

Tristan looked into Arthur's eyes.

- He's a girl... She's a girl.

Laughter erupted suddenly in the air as Lancelot, who was awakened by the sudden fuss got closer to the circle. Arthur immediately noted that his second-in-command complexion had grown one shade paler. Despite his apparent merriment, Lancelot looked terribly exhausted.

The brunet sneered again.

- That's what this fuss is all about? Tanjin is a girl? Is that a joke?

- Lancelot…Tristan… It's probably not the time…

They did not believe him. Tristan finally said the truth and they did not believe him. He lowered his eyes to the ground. Arthur's features darkened considerably. Seeing Arthur's reaction… Seeing Tristan remaining so serious, Lancelot stopped laughing and at last considered the possibility. Suddenly, like a sick joke, it all made sense. Small girlish hands that could not lift his own sword…His hatred for water… Everything just clicked in his head as his laughter died down.

- I saw it. Her… I mean. It's difficult to explain. It seems like he is not totally conscious of it.

- Not conscious of it? Arthur said, blinking.

- He is not conscious that he is a girl on some level. I understand he was taught only to act like a boy. So he is not… He believes himself to be one. A boy.

Arthur remained silent as the news settled. Tristan continued feeling compelled to explain more about the situation. It was like he wanted to explain himself.

- Melan knew. He helped Tanjin to conceal it. They were really close.

He was despicable as he was mixing dead Melan in his lies. He helped them too. But he did not state the obvious.

- Wait! Guys! It's a nice story and all…But he was with Amery?! He and Galahad… are at odd… over Amery? Does it ring a bell? Aggravain noted candidly. He kissed her! Right, Gawain? I'm not sure I'm following you guys. Can he do that if he's a girl? Is it even possible?

Tristan shrugged the questions off.

- I don't know what they were doing. But he is definitely not a boy.

- He never bathed with us. Blaez noticed seemingly unfazed. He was always so strange, that smelly ugly Hun. I knew he was hiding something. His kind always does. How is that news?

- He hated to be touched. Andreas added. But that is not a girlish trait I think. Callan does not like to be touched either especially when he wakes up in the morning. Last time that fool punched me!

Callan groaned in protest.

Lancelot frowned, anger blazing in his eyes. Arthur shook his head, warning his best friend silently that he was in no condition to fight.

- How long… Lancelot asked a chill in his voice.

- What?

- How long have you known about this?

He took a hesitant step toward Tristan. As for Arthur, he stepped back from the ugliness. Tristan looked away. If Lancelot had not felt like every parts of his body was about to turn to ash, he'd be pummeling Tristan's face without pause right now.

- I just… It was not a necessity to tell. It was not essential, Lancelot.

- Tristan, tell them… Arthur advised him, his voice dangerously low.

- Since she joined us… I had confirmation a few weeks after that. I… caught an accidental glimpse of her changing. She never knew that I knew until a couple months ago at the trial.

Duncan rolled his sleeves methodically. He'd remained quiet throughout Tristan's whole confession. Now, he was ready to voice his opinion.

- So… Just so we're clear… You, Tristan, happened to be less blind than the rest of us. Good for you! You had suspicions from the start that he… or she was lying about her identity. Still, you didn't confide in anyone not even your leader but seek the truth for yourself… And then, when you had confirmation, you decided again that it was not worth telling your comrades because after all it was good enough that you were the only one knowing and then…

- Duncan… That's enough! Arthur said.

Duncan ignored him.

- Then, she was about to be executed in the ugliest way. She almost died. We almost died protecting her. Still, you remained silent because you have so many noble reasons I suppose. I get it. What did you do then? What did you do to her?

- You want to know?

- Yes… Tristan, I want to know.

Tristan held Duncan's gaze.

- I told her I knew what she was trying to hide. She was so scared that I had discovered her secret she started to hate me even though I made so many sacrifices for her, that ungrateful… Well, you got your story!

Tristan stopped himself before saying too much.

- Sacrifices? Nonsense! Duncan retorted back. You don't know what those words mean!

- Boys, calm down! Bors said. We can discuss this quietly so no need to get all pissed off. Tristan thought it was for the best. The boy is normally pretty level-headed. I want to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Tristan looked at Bors. He'd never thought he would get support from him.

- Or he had a thing for her… and he wanted to keep her to himself. Percival stated matter-of-factly. I'd have a thing for her too if I did not know how much of a bloodthirsty beast she could be on the battlefield… Although she probably can kill me in the blink of an eye. The bodies she left yesterday… a work of art. Now you are telling me she can carry children too…

- Percy? Blaez intervened disgusted.

- What? He is not that ugly. I mean…She is not that ugly. Sure she has a lineage of crazy monsters in her family, but who's perfect? Gentlemen, did you see her eyes and lips? When I think about it… It suddenly makes sense. Sometimes I thought he was pretty… I said nothing. I was scared somebody would find me weird.

- It's because you are being weird right now! Gawain said with a disgusted look on his face. We're talking about Tanjin here. He is one of us. Be respectful.

Blaez sent another glare in Percy's direction.

- But Gawain…when he bathed… He was cute like Melan. Not in a weird sense… I mean when she bathed… Didn't you ever feel like something was different about her? I mean she's a woman right… She gives off a certain feeling...

- Just shut up, Percy! Don't say another word or I swear I will throw up on you! Blaez shouted exasperated.

Tristan said nothing. Was it the way Bors said? He took a decision solely on the purpose of staying practical and fair. He wanted to be fair to Tanjin. He could try that. It could be the truth if he wanted it too.

A look on Duncan's face and he knew he could not trust his own opinions on this. Did he really think it was in Tanjin's best interest? If it was the truth, Duncan wasn't having any of it. His eyes sent daggers in Tristan's direction.

He stepped forward toward Duncan. Duncan did not move.

- The truth at the time was not essential. She could fight and she was still Attila's kin. It did not change anything.

- Tristan, I told you if he gets hurt, no matter the reason, I will hurt you back.

Tristan nodded. It was fair. Duncan had given him a fair warning. If only he could explain why… He lowered his eyes. He made such a mess of things.

- He is probably dead now. Because if they got them… if they got her…. She knows… She is better dead.

Before Tristan had time to elaborate, Duncan grabbed his throat. Without much of a struggle, Tristan and him went rolling down the hill. Tristan recovered faster but Duncan threw the first punch… It was so violent it drew blood on Tristan's nose instantly. Tristan stumbled back. He immediately retaliated and his fist connected mercilessly with Duncan's jaw, sending him backwards. Braden tried to grab Tristan and Blaez, Duncan. But an enraged Duncan managed to pushed Braden and Tristan back on the ground. Straddling Tristan, Duncan pummeled him to the ground and blood oozed on his muddy face as his jaw was cut open. Blaez grabbed Duncan again wrenching him off the scout.

- You sick bastard! I'm going to get you for this! I will never forgive you!

- I am the sick one! Tristan shouted back between blows. Don't make me laugh! Is that all you've got? Come at me Duncan! Give me your best shot!

Unfortunately for Tristan, Duncan managed again to shrug Blaez off him and did just that. He punched Tristan down hard. Tristan fell on his knees as blood gushed out from his eyebrow. Duncan was about to strike again when Bors and Blaez restrained him forcefully grabbing his arms and forcing him down on his stomach.

- Let me go! I swear if you don't let me kill that bastard, Bors... Even you Blaez, I am going to kill you too!

Just for this, Bors and Blaez added extra pressure on his scarred back. He howled in pain as he felt his scorched back burned anew, the pain so intense and nagging he could not think anymore for a brief instant.

- Enough! Arthur suddenly shouted. Stop this now! Bors!

Arthur grabbed Bors 'shoulder. He immediately lowered the pressure on Duncan's back.

- Duncan, I believe you made your point.

- It's his fault! Duncan grunted. Arthur… It's his fault.

- For what?! Arthur retorted back. I was the one who send them behind the battlements. I was the one who ordered them to stay behind. Why don't you fight me?

Duncan shook his head in denial. Tears streamed down his cheek as he struggled to catch his breath.

- Listen, I do not care for what everybody has to say at the moment. In fact, I do not care for your petty arguments at all. I do not even care for your lies. I do not even care for the Truth. My only concern right now is to get everyone back alive. So get ready to move now or get lost!

Blaez completely let go of Duncan. With a groan, be it from anger or pain, he stood up and immediately stalked off to the horses. Braden and Dagonet released Tristan. He remained kneeling pitifully for a while then he went to gather his bags. No one offered to help wipe the blood on his face. He grabbed a dirty cloth and scrubbed all the dirt and blood he could. Then he went to find Arthur.

- Arthur!

- Not the time…

- I wanted to say… that…

- You lied to me… I asked you a simple question as your leader. As a friend, I offered it to have no repercussions. You looked into my eyes and you lied to me… So, no, I don't have the time to listen to you, Tristan. Galahad and Tanjin are both out there…I hope… still fighting for their lives. Consider it a fair warning, we better find them safe and well or else next time it's not going to be Duncan unleashing hell on you, it's going to be me and no one will save you.

Tristan let the words settle in. Arthur attached his bags to his saddle and climbed on his horse without a word. A few minutes later, everyone was all set to go. Tristan mounted Illyria.

- Percival and Aloysius, we will follow your lead! Arthur said.

His face partially drained from its colors, Lancelot grimaced as it took the reins of his mare. He stood boldly in the path of Illyria.

- Do you know, Tristan, that there are a lot of people who would not mind you taking Melan's place right now?

- You are one of them, I guess. Tristan said.

- Exceptionally, I am not. Any other day I don't say but fortunately for you I cooled down quite a bit since your inspiring speech. Mostly I promise myself that I would try not to blame my own disabilities on others not that I think that it's what they are doing.

- So…

- I should have trusted my instinct. I did not. I can only blame myself. I let him down again. I mean… I let her down. So I know what you feel.

Tristan shrugged, looking away.

- Are you done already?

- Yes. I only wanted to make sure Tristan that you knew that what Duncan said earlier held a certain amount of truth.

Tristan remained quiet.

- You said she hated you when you confronted her.

He did not say a word.

- Tristan, you do not really know the meaning of sacrifices…nor do you know the meaning of friendship and brotherhood. I hope one day you learn before it's too late.

* * *

Boisterous laughs filled the tavern. Amery attended to a table after another with a happy smile on a face. She had nice words for everybody and every table she waited was eager to spend more money. It was a good night. Perched on a table, Sylena observed her with a bit of envy. She was not in the mood herself. She missed Braden dearly. She hated waiting for him to come home.

- Silly, will you work tonight or only yawn? Vanora grumbled.

Sylena's brooding was bad business for her.

- Don't call me that! Sylena moaned.

- You do look silly from where I'm standing, Silly. What is wrong with you?

- How can you do it? This wait is driving me insane.

Vanora shrugged.

- You know what is driving me insane. The adorable gluttons that are home waiting for me to bring them food.

- I wish I had one of those. Sylena grumbled.

She sulked even more. She was so desperate to become a mother. Still, her stupid husband was far too busy being absent to be of any help in the making process.

- You wouldn't know what to do with one if you had one.

- That's mean. I'd make a mighty fine mother and you know that!

- I do know you can get the job done when you are actually trying. Sylena, get to work!

- I am sorry. I'm too worried to work.

- Girl, I have my guts full with child and I can still work.

- You're like a goddess… A force of nature. I admire you, dear Vanora.

- I will kick some of my powers in your behind if you don't get up right now.

Vanora said handing Dorry a plate of food as she passed by. In exchange, Dorry gave her a little bag of coins. Vanora cooed tenderly at the puffy brown pouch. She loved it when little coins made their ways into the treasure chest; the little clinking noise it made was music to her ears. She counted the money and scribbled the numbers in the book with a sharp grin.

- How can you stay so calm?

- Why would I be agitated?

Amery jumped in front of them like a little a naughty bunny.

- Hey you two! Van, another round of ale… for that table. I am trying to convince them to buy a pail.

- You're a good little soldier, my dear girl. Go make us some money! Get those pigs to spend that hard-earned money! You are our little prized jewel! You're the best!

Amery smiled even more.

- What is it with you? Sylena groaned poking Amery's rosy cheeks with her middle finger.

Amery shrugged and went back to the table where the men were awaiting her.

- What is it with her? Why is she glowing? Wasn't she heartbroken before?

- A girl in love should be happy. You should follow her example if you truly loved your stinking husband.

- Braden is not stinky. He is cute... brave… kind-hearted and wonderful.

- Cute?

- Don't you think he look a lot like Bors? They could pass as brothers?

Vanora grimaced.

- Bors is hideous as is all his friends. And he has the worst smell when he comes home. In fact, like all men, he is truly disgusting.

- So why do you like him so much then?

- I asked myself the same question over and over again. After my third born, I decided my mother was right I was a woman who lacks any sense of good judgment and that was the end of the story.

Sylena stared at her dumbfounded. Vanora continued with a straight-face.

- Also, he makes me laugh. He can be a child himself but he is good with children. They love him a lot even though we can't be sure he is their father. I think the most important thing of all is that he is well-endowed. You'd wish you'd never have to get out of bed with him. That's why I am so reluctant to share him. He'd blind other useless women with the thing between his legs.

Sylena started to laugh.

- Vanora, stop it! You are too funny.

- What are you two talking about?

- Bedroom talk, kitten? Vanora said. Would you join us?

- So dear Amery, you never shared with us your exploits with the Hun Prince.

Amery blushed a deep shade of red.

- Come on, girl, help poor Sylena take her mind off her husband.

Sylena eagerly nodded. She was always fond of gossips. It could help the anxiety she felt since their departure. Amery felt suddenly cornered.

- I don't know what to say.

- Anything you want to share is fine, sweet pie.

- Well, it was…enjoyable. I think.

- Enjoyable what does that mean?

- I have more tables to wait.

- No, what do you mean by that? Enjoyable as in better than you expected? Or Enjoyable as in it was just passable? Then why would you stay five days in his room if it was just not that good? Does he pay well? Is he violent in bed? As in really passionate? Or as in really scary?

Amery blushed even more and darted back to the table full of men. Sylena glanced over her shoulder to Vanora then she grabbed a plate of meat and followed Amery.

- Wait, Sweetie! I will help you with this table. Just tell me between Galahad and Tanjin, who do you like the most?

Vanora smiled mischievously. One thing was for sure, despite getting older; Sylena's moods remained quite predictable. She loved that about her. She thought if she listened one more time to her whining she'd go crazy. Of course, she was worried sick. It's been weeks now. She did not know how long it would take for them to actually reach Epithelium. She just knew that like Sylena she wanted Bors back. She caressed her belly absentmindedly. She loved that man for one reason only. Despite his shortcomings, his absences, he always left her with something of him. He always left her with some kind of hope. No man had done that before him. He gave her the family she was longing for. Of course, her brood was too much trouble. She had to struggle to feed them while their father was being a narcissistic hero somewhere. But she was not alone. She pitied Sylena really. She really wished that she could feel as complete as her. She went back to her book and added Amery's last bill, scribbling down the numbers in roman characters.

- Will you forgive me for being so bold but are you the owner of this tavern?

Shutting the tavern book, at last, Vanora raised her eyes toward the newcomer. She was stupefied to see a beautiful girl standing in front of her. She looked the same age as Sylena. She wore an embroidered burgundy dress and her hair was braided neatly. A hood partially shielded her golden hair and she had eyes a mottled green as far as she could tell in the dim light of the tavern. She was astonishingly beautiful. Of course, Vanora prided herself in having the most beautiful girls in town working with her. But this girl seemingly belonged to another world. The girl smiled amicably the best she could but Vanora could sense her uneasiness and discomfort at being in such a place at this kind of hours.

- Not the owner… But, sweetheart, you don't really want to see that useless man because all that man does is "own" things… As for me, I am the "nobody" who comes after him to do the actual job.

- Oh! So he is not here…

She stared at the ground and turned to go. Vanora sighed. Princesses were definitely not the smartest of the bunch.

- Wait! What is your name?

- I am Yseult, madam.

- I'm not a respectable woman. I am an unmarried retired unrepentant whore, mother of four bastards. So don't bother too much with the titles and honorifics, sweetheart.

- Oh I am sorry…to hear that you're not... I mean… I just… I am sorry…

- You're not from here, are you?

Yseult shook her head, eyes misty.

- You wanted to talk to Laurel about what? I better warn you he is a pig of the worst variety. You're his type since you're a woman… No, since you're young sweet and clueless. I don't advise you to deal with him in person. Do you have a husband?

She shook her head.

- Family? A father or a brother who could deal with him…

- It's just me and my two younger brothers… But my brother is not here.

- Well, so what is it you wanted to ask?

- It's just that I come with a strange request.

- I'm all ears.

- I need work.

Vanora took another good look at the girl's dress. A dress like that could probably provide food for her brood for a few weeks. She let out a laugh.

- Sorry, there is nothing funny. You want to work here? Do you know what it is we're doing here?

- I guess so… Yseult said.

The blonde looked incredulous as Amery improvised a dance for the men. She turned toward Vanora terrified.

- So you don't really know…

- I'm not sure. I can wait tables. I am pretty good in a kitchen. My mother taught me… I can also clean.

Sylena grabbed Vanora's shoulder and kissed her cheek soundly.

- Oh! It's that girl who came with her brother to see Arthur. Braden told me the story before he left. She's the one from Epithelium! The daughter of the general… they were going to save. What is she doing here, Vanora?

Yseult lowered her head again.

- I have no idea, Vanora said tiredly.

- My father… is the commander of the legendary ninth legion. Epithelium was… is our home.

- Is it true that Tanjin was your slave?

Yseult paled even more.

- Sylena…please!

- What? What did I say?

- I'm sorry to have bothered you. I shouldn't have come. Thank you for your patience.

- Wait, why do you want to work? If you are the person Sylena thinks you are you live in the villa of Tiberius. And the commander of the wall of Hadrian can very well provide for you and your brothers.

- I know that. It is true that my brother and I found shelter with Tiberius and his wife Salva. They are good people. They told us we could stay as long as we wanted. I feel blessed by their presence. But…

She ran outside and Sylena and Vanora could not help but follow her. A small crowd had gathered outside of the tavern. Most of them were women, children and old people, dressed in dragged clothes and looking famished. Sylena and Vanora remained speechless.

- My brothers and I, we did not come alone here. We brought all these people with us. They left everything behind so that they could survive. It's getting colder. Some of them did not have a proper meal for days. They lost everything. We cannot abuse Tiberius's hospitality forever. We need to rebuild our lives. My brother and I are responsible for them. So, I need work to provide for them.

Vanora inspected the crowd with a hesitant look on her face.

- How many of you are able to work?

A few hands were lifted in the air. Not nearly enough, she concluded.

- Good, we will see what we can do. Sylena…

- I will go ask Jols tomorrow. He will probably need people in the kitchen. I will take Trix with me. I think he likes her.

- It's settled then.

Vanora turned to Yseult.

- As for you, milady, are soon can you start?

- Me… You're taking me? Really?

- Yes, if you can cook, clean and wait tables. It's good enough for me.

- I can start now. Yseult said.

- You will come back tomorrow morning. For now, you are on the dayshift. Can you care for children too?

- I have a little brother. His name is Erasmus. He is five summers old now… I am his guardian in the absence of my parents.

- Good, I have four of them. Dorry has two… Julia just one…Lizzie, five… They are greedy monsters. Each week, one of us looks after the entire brood for one entire day. Is that a problem for you?

- No, madam.

- Vanora… That's my name. I told you there is no madam here. This is Sylena, Edorra, but everybody calls her Dorry, Lizbeth or Lizzie, Sara, Julia, Trix, Hannah, Padme, Maureen, Celestia, Gillian, Sasha, Dahlia and Lidia… and this is the person who's going to mentor you into becoming the best tavern girl ever.

Amery blinked twice as Vanora pulled her toward the new girl.

- Our very own shining star, Amery.

- Vanora! Why me?! She looks older than me. I can't be her tutor.

- You have had experiences for a lifetime. Share them with the newcomer. Make sure our patrons stay in check. It wouldn't do that Tiberius find her here doing unsightly things. So keep her in check too.

- But why not Sylena? She is much chattier and friendlier than I am.

- I thought you two were kind of linked together. It must be fate. She is the old owner of Tanjin and the whole fort knows that you are Tanjin's woman now. Between owners, go ahead and get acquainted.

Amery stared at the girl from head to toe.

- You owned Tanjin?! How could you?! After all he's been through?!

- Wait, my family did. Not me. I could not care less about him. I never even saw him.

- Be quiet! You are making me sick. I don't want to hear another word coming out of your snotty mouth.

- What?

- I said be quiet. You will only talk when I speak to you.

- You can't do that.

- Didn't you listen to Vanora, little Miss? I am your new mentor now. If you want to work in the world of ordinary people. You will do everything I tell you to do and you will speak only when spoken. If you can't do that, go home to your slaves.

Yseult nodded.

- Good. Get back here tomorrow and be ready for work.

- Are you sure it was a good idea, Vanora? Sylena whispered.

- Trust me, they are about to become the best of friends.

- You are scary.

- See, that's what Bors loves about me. I scare him shitless. That's why he always comes home. Do not worry, Sylena. Everything will be fine.


	23. Unleashed Madness

-23-

UNLEASHED MADNESS

**_Contagious Madness -_**

_Water dripped noisily on the concrete. Light shimmered through the broken window. Galahad woke up with a start. His eyes fluttered opened lazily and he gasped again when he realized the room was wavering before his eyes. His world was upside down. He was hanging upside down. The scream was caught in his throat and he seemed unable to fill his lungs. With a deep groan, he finally managed to let go of the piercing agonizing scream imprisoned in his chest all at once. He was trapped. _

Galahad woke up with a start, his breathing erratic. A sense of relief washed over him when he realized that his world was still very much in the same place as it always has been...

Yet, a feeling crept up in the back of his chest. He was trapped and Tanjin was nowhere in sight.

He gasped at the moonless night. The distinct crackling of a torch could be heard in the background. It took a harder time to focus as he struggled to regain his footing in the moving carriage, his hands bound behind his back. He rolled to the side with a deep groan. His cage had bars spaced enough in between to be able to get one arm across but he was helpless. At some point, they must have knocked him out because he did not remember much from what happened.

His cage was on wheels and he felt the waving motion in the night. How many hours did they walk in the dark forest? When will they stopped? Where? He had no answers to those questions. Galahad made another attempt at straightening himself up feeling a dull pain at the back of his neck.

Galahad felt a little sick suddenly. He could smell the dead around him. This smell… Spit, sweat and death. It smelled like "him" on his worse days. He groaned.

It smelled like Tanjin. He never thought something like this could be one day of comfort to him. Tanjin was somehow close he knew. Kicking his legs under him he managed to crouch on his knees. Then, he collapsed against the metal bars in a sitting position. Breathing deeply, he assessed his environment in one smart sweep.

Their abductors kept walking in the night like the land belong to them. It could mean that they were straying far enough from Epithelium to be out of range from the knights and assumed a relative safety but that they were not far enough yet to be completely at rest.

He noticed a guard walking beside the cage.

- Hey !

He was ignored.

- Where are we going? He asked again. Where are you taking us?

The guard just shook his head and disappeared in the dark.

His heart thumped loudly in his chest. That stench again? What if it was really the smell of death? Where was Tanjin? He wanted his freedom back. He wanted to be out of here. Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply. He had to stay composed. There was no use panicking now. He will find a way. He had to. The woods were barely discernible in the dark but… Somehow, it was noisy around him in addition of the heavy stench. The chant of cicadas, the cry of an owl and the croak of ravens chasing at night, he deduced that Broceliande was still somewhat close. In order to identify each new sound, Galahad focused more. There was a source of water close, meaning there could be a river not too far. He tried to remember the drawing on Arthur's maps. He never had the ability to read Latin well but he had a good memory of things. He even remembered the tiny mole on Amery's left thigh.

Well, that was not helping. Focus.

Well, he recalled seeing the peculiar symbol representing a stream on the scroll. If he could find a way out of this cage and this mess, if he could find Tanjin, Galahad was pretty confident they could both find their way back to the others.

He froze. Something was moving behind him. That stench… He heard again the rustling of chains and a shadow caught his attention. Galahad was not alone in his cage and he could not decide if it was a good thing or a bad thing yet. He locked eyes with a naked girl. He stared at her from head to toe a uncertain amount of time. Chained to the cage by her left ankle, she winced soundlessly and limped even more in the far corner of the cage. His eyes widened at the realization that she could move more than him. There was his chance!

- Hey you, can you untie me? He whispered.

She did not move. He almost lost his balance trying to get closer to her.

- I am not going to hurt you. I will even help you if you untie me.

The girl shook her head frantically in answer. Galahad frowned but whispered again calmly.

- I swear I will get you to a safe place if you help me.

She ducked again in a defensive stance before crawling forward. Galahad swallowed hard. He knew that stance. His heart skipped a beat. Noticing a slight limp in her move, he recoiled unwillingly as she crawled on the floor like a snake. She flinched again and pain mirrored in her dark eyes. She said nothing again and changed position. The carriage stumbled on a rocky path and it sent them both rolling.

- Tan…

That's when he saw her eyes. Dark green glistened in the dark with unshed tears.

- Tanjin? Is that you?

The chains rustled louder. Galahad experienced a sudden flashback. Tanjin got hurt. Tanjin was trapped in a girl's body. No, Tanjin was a girl. He must have misunderstood something. Something was not right in his world. The girl crawled back on her hinges. She couldn't be…

Could she be?

She was definitely naked and he caught a glimpse of the tattoos on her back and front. So many times training with the infamous Hun prince, it seemed oddly familiar to him in all its incongruity. He stared at her longer than he should and still could not form one coherent thought. Just what happened to the Universe?

_- I can predict your move, your highness._

_- You wish you were at the level where you can walk in my shadows. Tanjin taunted back._

_- You disgust me. I would never walk in the shadows with you._

_Tanjin assumed a defensive stance and invited him to resume. The brunet was not nearly dumb enough to fall for this. _

_- You brag a lot these days, Galahad. I still kissed your woman._

_Tanjin laughed and Galahad decided that one day he would wipe the smirk off his stupid face. _

_- Cheap tricks again, Tanjin!_

_ Galahad retaliated with the back of his sword. It tore up the fabric of the leather up to his belly. The distinctive pattern on his stomach was unveiled for the world to see. It runs across his stomach and ribcage. Galahad stalled his attack not wanting to inflict injuries. He was so close to slice flesh and shed blood it took all the self-control he had to restrain his arm. Tanjin whirled again like a storm and avoided the impact at the last minute. The eyes of an enraged wolf snarled at him and a tiger snapped opened his jaws on Tanjin's back. He instinctively backed off evading Tanjin's brute retaliation. As if something had snapped in him, the Hun moved faster, strike harder, became instantly more ruthless after that. Galahad retreated again as their blade collided against each other. Green eyes stared him down. He almost froze on the spot. He was losing ground._

During that particular fight, he could not keep himself from looking at that pattern. Just like right now, he was hypnotized by it. It was like a tapestry unfolding in front of him telling him a story untold till now.

But Tanjin was not a girl, at least the Tanjin he knew. Well, the Tanjin he knew was an insufferable bastard, often ruthless, frequently selfish, at times without grace, morals and integrity, mostly cruel, unabashedly arrogant and proud; the Tanjin he knew was a savage beast from the East.

- _ You brag a lot these days, Galahad. I still kissed your woman._

Well, the Tanjin he knew did kiss Amery. Amery did kiss him back. The Tanjin he knew was too much of a competition for him. No matter how much they fought, the outcome was always the same. He stood no chance against that Tanjin because she, Amery, would run to him and leave him behind so easily. He was jealous of the Tanjin he knew. So that person in front of him… was a complete stranger to him.

Complicated. It was too complicated for words.

What if the past was a lie? What if Tanjin was not what he pretended to be? _I still kissed your woman. _He knew what he saw in the stables. He saw them holding hands. He saw them many times. Amery never held his hand like she held Tanjin's. Whatever Tanjin was… Amery's feelings were not played. Galahad reported his attention on Tanjin in that girl's body, eyes narrowed in distrust. He really did not know what to think anymore. Well, fine, let's ignore the obvious. Tanjin was Tanjin.

- Alright, you won. I'm tired with your dirty tricks. We will talk about this later and then no more lies, you filthy snake. Now, come untie me!

The girl turned to look blankly at him then anxiously she avoided his stare again. Galahad grunted in annoyance.

- Stop playing now?! What's wrong with you?

She spoke for the first time with a voice he did not recognize at all. It sent chills through his spine.

- Tanjin is not here right now.

She bent her head on the side.

- What? What do you mean he is not here?! Do you think now is the time to play around, Tanjin? We've been captured and it's all your fault, you idiot! We have to find a way out of here!

- You would play around with me, knight? She asked warily.

Tanjin suddenly had the heaviest accent, he noticed. His voice was warm, softer, and less crude and even though Galahad was unable to tell the exact difference with his old voice, he felt uneasy listening to it as if something was missing. Was he playing a part? How come it seems so natural to "him"?

- Listen, idiot…

- No, you listen, i-d-i-o-t! She retorted back. It is not my fault that Tanjin is gone. Why is everyone so unpleasant in this world?

In this world? What was "he" talking about? He needed to stop doing that. How could "he" do this?

- I don't care! Untie me now Tanjin or I swear I will beat your crazy ass into submission when I'm free! He grunted.

Green eyes narrowed in his direction. What the hell was wrong with him?

- I don't trust you. Tanjin said I should never trust any of the knights except for Melan. Melan is not here.

- Of course, he is not here! He is dead! Will you get over this already! People die! That's what they do! We are stuck in the middle of a war! We could die here, you stupid! Now, untie me!

The chains rustled again. Tanjin moved quicker than it found it possible and pushed one of his dirty hands on his mouth. Galahad felt his stomach clench. His hand was so bloody.

- Shhh…. Do not say that! It hurts Tanjin when you say things like that. Then he doesn't want to come out anymore! So don't say another word!

He was suddenly so close. Galahad felt his face warm up at "her" naked proximity. Why was he… she… naked? Why was a girl standing in for Tanjin? Why was Tanjin acting like this all of a sudden? It was like it was another person in front of him. It was impossible.

- Where is Tanjin if I may ask? He whispered skeptically.

Maybe if he indulged him a bit, playing his game, Tanjin would get out sooner of that dazed crazy state the death of Melan pulled him in. As for this girl's body, he ought to have a proper explanation. There was a rational explanation for this.

She touched her chest. Galahad tried not to stare. He failed and blushed in the dark.

- Inside… Where I keep him safe…

Was he crazy? What did that mad man do to him when he was out of it? What happened to him? What happened to them? He knew he was repeating the same questions over and over but why was there a girl in front of him instead of the son of Attila? Why the universe was suddenly so warped and confusing?

- This is a nightmare and I am going to wake up. I need to wake up. Please, someone wake me up!

His eyes closed, he suddenly felt her hot breath against his lips. He opened his eyes wide. She nudged him teasingly with her nose.

- Piggy, Piggy, Piggy, Sweet dreams. She sing-sang softly. But why, you are so funny. Why would you want to wake up when you're already awake? Do you always go to sleep like that?

What did that thing that talked with Tanjin's mouth said? He groaned and pushed her with his forehead far away from him. She seemed even more amused, stroking her forehead with one hand.

- Oh! Do you want to cry? Tanjin said you like to cry.

- Of course not and that is not true. Whatever Tanjin told you about me is a lie. What am I saying? You are not real. I'm dreaming this. You are not here.

- How come?

- How come what?

- How come you're not real, knight? I do not understand. She said.

- I… You're the one who's not real. You don't exist.

- I don't?

She looked genuinely surprised. Tanjin never said anything about that.

- You don't. This cannot be.

- So what am I then? I am confused.

- I don't know! You should tell me! What is wrong with you? I beg you! Snap out of it!

She blinked softly. Galahad groaned.

- Right this moment, I want to choke the life out of you, Tanjin. You chose the worst time to go insane.

Startled, she crawled back fearfully at the back of the cage.

- Wait! I did not mean that. You know what I mean. Come on Tanjin, you know it's not what I meant. You know I…would never do that… Not when you look like that! Obviously, they did something to us… To you… You're not yourself.

She frowned even more.

- I told you Tanjin is not here! He went hiding when they took off our clothes. He always does that when he is really scared or exhausted or when his heart is in pain. He never stays inside this long though. Now, I feel like he abandoned us all over again.

She whimpered pitifully, tears in her eyes.

- Alright, I understand. Then, won't you untie me?

She shook her head firmly.

- Why?

- What say you won't hurt me?

- Because I said so. Listen, what's your name? Do you have a name?

- Mother gave us one.

Well, that was helpful. One thing was for sure, that girl she was wearisome to say the least! She was a Hun, he had no doubt.

- What is it then? My name is Galahad.

- I know who you are. You are Tanjin's little "brother".

- I am not! Well, yes, technically I am younger. I simply don't like being called little.

She smiled again so tenderly he could not believe that this face had ever belonged to the dirty Hun. She looked normal. Crazy, yes. But strangely normal.

- Tanjin did not like it either. He used to be the youngest. They teased him constantly. But then you came and the weigh in his heart was lifted he was happy not to be the youngest anymore.

She crawled forward again.

- He would not be happy to see you like this though, looking so weak and fragile. It is so unsightly and it is not really funny anymore! Are you scared? Don't be scared, Galahad! Tanjin will be back soon! Do not worry!

- I swear I will not hurt you. Please…

She let out an irritated sigh and rolled her eyes.

- I can't do that Galahad because I can't trust you! Remember?! She said visibly frustrated with his slow-processing mind.

Galahad rolled his eyes back. The nerve of that girl… She was insane. Tanjin or the girl, the ghost that possessed his body, which was not really his body, was insane. Or he was the crazy one. Maybe all of this was his imagination playing tricks on him. Maybe none of this was really happening! There was no way Tanjin would be a girl! There was no way they could get out of this alive. Maybe they were already dead and it was hell. Roman Christian Hell in all its horrors!

Suddenly, they both froze as they heard a scream. She grabbed the bars with her left hand and kneeled awkwardly besides him. They could not see anything in this darkness. Galahad shivered in disgust and it had nothing to do with the fact that their skins were touching. He felt Tanjin… He felt the girl breathe unevenly besides him. He sensed her growing agitation. Galahad closed his eyes. That was Tanjin beside him. He could not let his instinct overwhelmed his sense of reason. She moved again and his groin stirred painfully. He was probably no better than those men, was he? She felt as warm and soft as Amery. If they grabbed her, he could not imagine what they would do to her.

She turned to look at him. It was as if she could see right through him. He could only flinch under her accusing stare. Now was definitely not the time to think about these things!

Another chilling scream broke the silence.

He closed his eyes, feeling powerless.

- This man is... He's a monster. Damn, if only the others knew where we are! Listen, little girl, they're going to come for you next. In that state, all I know is that you're an easy prey. You're nothing like the Tanjin I know. I remember how he looked at Tanjin…No… at you… at that time. He's definitely going to come for you!

Galahad whispered, knocking his head softly on the cool metallic bars. Well, if she had It still made no sense whatsoever. Why did it make so little sense?

- Are you scared? He said without thinking.

- I am. But I know he is coming back. Tanjin would never let them hurt me. He would not, right?

- What if he could not… help you the way he could not help Melan.

She choked back tears. There she goes again! It made no sense that she could cry so easily. Tanjin almost never cried. It made no sense that she could smile and cry and breathe so easily. This was what madness look like.

- You are only saying these things so that I let you go. You're too cruel, Galahad. Tanjin was right about you. You're mean.

- No, I am not trying to be mean. This is the truth of the situation. If you do not untie me… I cannot find a way to get us out of here.

- I saw the way you look at me...

Argh! She was annoying!

- Don't overestimate yourself, you twit! You are weird looking and you smell terribly. You are not a woman! You are a calamity! You just reminded me of someone I care about for a brief instant. Call it temporary insanity! You should know very well! You are hopefully temporarily insane! You better be, Tanjin! If we die here, you will regret this!

- See, what I told you? That's being mean! I won't ever talk to you again, you nasty troll.

- Very well, you, lunatic bitch!

She crawled back in the corner. After a minute of silence, Galahad sighed. He could not afford to make an enemy out of Tanjin… or whatever her name was.

- Listen maybe I was too harsh again?! I humbly ask you to forgive me.

She smiled again triumphantly. How could she smile like that? Was it all a game to her? Did she think it was a game?

- Who is it then? The girl that you like!

Where did that come from? Did she know where she was? It was like she did not feel the pain a dislocated shoulder cause. It was like she did not measure the danger of their situation at all. Was she even human?

- I don't have to tell you. I don't know you. I don't understand anything that is currently happening. Right now, you are a complete stranger to me. Again, I am not trying to be unkind. It is simply the truth.

- Of course you know me, Galahad, I am Tangwen.

She spoke softly like he already had that information.

- Tan…gwen… That is your name.

She nodded eagerly.

- Tangwen, are you like Tanjin's sister? I heard that sometimes people born on the same day look alike and… it makes absolutely no sense but well...I don't know anymore.

- No. I am not his sister. He's got so many of them. Antil, Lysiane, Vilke, Kudjila, Mike, Fatia, Alda, Brien, Sanaa, Bassra….

She said without taking a pause.

- I get it. You are not one of them?

She nodded firmly.

- Who are you to him then?

- What do you mean?

- How are you two tied together?

She stared at him confused. Her upper lips shivered slightly and tears threatened to fall.

- Stop doing that! Don't cry, Tanjin! I mean Tangwen! I did not want to sound uncaring. I want to understand that's all. I want us to be… friends.

- Friends…

- Yes…Friends know things about each other.

- I like having new friends. We could play games. It's been so long since I played games.

- Yes, we…can… Please, tell me something about you.

Her eyes flickered as her pupils dilated in the dark. Holding the side of her head, she winced as if in pain.

- I…

- Yes…

- I…don't know. Why do you ask me? Nobody ever ask…that. You should ask something else. Please ask another question. One I can answer. Or better, let's play another game, Galahad! I'm very good at guessing games!

- Wait…I need to understand who you are first !

Tears streamed down her cheeks in her confusion. Galahad sighed and leaned closer to her, his forehead touching hers. Her skin was burning hot against him. The stench of raw blood mixed with sweat was strong on her too. She definitely smelled like him. It would have been easy to state that Tanjin was a girl. He lowered his eyes cautiously trying to ignore the fact she was naked against him. Her right arm was twisted at an odd angle. Her right leg had been shot by arrow. How the hell could she still manage to move on that leg was beyond him? He had no idea how she bear the pain of her mangled arm either. He did not dare ask. He stared deep into her eyes. He could not see any of Tanjin's determination in her eyes. He could not see his strength and arrogance. There was no anger there and no traces of his usual bloodlust either. However those green eyes were far from being dead like that time before the trial. They were very much alive sending another chill in his spine. Emotions flickered vividly in depth of green. He caught the light in her eyes and licked his suddenly dry lips. She was scared and was trying to hide it. He was scared too. He could not hide it.

- You're really not Tanjin. He finally said.

It would have been easy to accept that Tanjin had just lied to them all and that he was a girl all along. It'd be much easier to comprehend. It was only half of the story though. He looked at the tattoo on her body. Wolf and Tiger. What if it was really two people in the same body? What if the Huns could do this kind of miracle?

She shook her head again.

- Is it magic? Is it some kind of Hun witchcraft? How come Tanjin can do this and he didn't tell us? I saw him in that body of yours…He collapsed in front of me… Then you tell me he disappeared and he left you… Tangwen, a girl in his place. Are you a demon?

She shook her head again.

- Are you sure?

- I don't think I am. Do you think I am? Tanjin never said I was. Guess again! She said smiling.

He looked at her from head to toe and willed himself to not feel the heat rising in his own body when he caught a hasty glimpse of her nipples. Being young was unbearable. All thoughts went south it seems. He could only think about her nakedness, about a skin which was as soft as Amery's in some places. He missed Amery. That was probably it.

- Cover yourself. Don't you have any modesty left?

He regretted his words since she seemed on the verge of crying again. She called him a baby when she could cry so easily.

- Oh! But it is not my fault! Don't be mean again! She whimpered. They took our clothes from us… They say very scary things too. There was that ugly bony monster and he said he was going to break me and see what is inside. He said he will do things I could not imagine yet. Emptiness I felt then inside. Tanjin was gone. I was so scared. But I tried to not show it like Keda taught me. Still, I could not fight. I do not know how and Tanjin was not there. My arm and my leg are numb. I feel numb. Look…It feels funny and tingly. I'm tired. I don't want to play games anymore. I wish Tanjin was here. The evil men are too scary. Here, it's too scary. I thought they'd kill me if I resisted. I am not strong like Tanjin.

- Sorry for that.

Galahad writhed impatiently under her. He wanted Tanjin back. He could not deal with this. Her. In this state, he just couldn't deal with this side of Tanjin. He felt a strong urge to just hold her. It was nauseating knowing their pasts.

- You can have my undershirt if you untie me.

She wiped her tears with one hand as she considered his offer. She stubbornly shook her head. What again?

- But you will be naked, then. It's not convenient I'm afraid.

- Only from the waist up… Listen… Why are you being so stubborn?! Like you have a choice! You're naked already! I am telling you to undress me now!

- You are a man. You're not really tall…but you're a man nonetheless… I cannot do that. Mother was very clear about this being considered an inappropriate conduct for a young lady. Lysiane did that a lot in her youth and she was punished into marrying Warwulf. I do not want to marry Warwulf. He is ugly and deformed. He picked on us all the time. He never took a bath in his entire life. No, we definitely don't want to marry Warwulf. We'd like it much better if it was Keda… or Talika… Even Hubris would do.

Galahad knocked his head on the bars again.

- I don't understand anything that comes out of your crazy mouth. You are so pig-headed and irrational. You make no sense at all. You are just like Tanjin and then you're not… I… swear! You are killing me!

- That's right Tanjin never listens!

- Yeah and it's frustrating and exasperating! It's driving me insane!

- We know! Father used to be so angry with him for that very reason. He never thinks of the consequences of his acts. He always gets us into trouble and we have to wait for Keda to save us. Well, Keda cannot save us anymore, huh? Talika too is not here. I don't know where they are. Tanjin never explained why they left us. Why they all left. Now you're telling me Melan is gone too. You said that he was dead. Does it mean he is not coming back? I liked Melan. He was a loyal and obedient servant. He served me well. He used to bring me flowers. He also used to pour me a bath just the way I like it every week. But you said Tanjin had to kill him!

- Hey, I did not say such things.

- I see… It's his damn fault and he knows it. So that's why the coward went hiding. I understand now. Two answers always better than one for Tanjin. He never thinks things through. I find it really annoying myself. Sometimes, we hate him! Yes, we do!

She acquiesced oddly vigorously at her own words. She was the picture of madness. As much as Galahad wanted to forget about her and the contradictions she aroused, his fascination kept growing.

- I guess he can be pretty annoying! I'm not the one who will tell you otherwise. Wait…no…You said your father… Your father is Attila too.

- Of course he is! Who else who'd sired us?

- So you're Tanjin… what exactly? Do you share the same body? You share the same body, right? Are you still Tanjin somehow? Can you talk to Tanjin? Can you call him back?

- You are not making any sense, Galahad. I don't follow you here.

She looked at him confused again. He was the one not making any sense. Really? Galahad groaned in frustration. Why bother?

- I give up! I give up trying to have a conversation with you. Never thought I would say this one day but I actually miss the real Tanjin.

She gave him a dirty look.

- I am pretty sure I am real too, you bully! I don't like this place. I don't think I like you very much. You are not a very good servant, Galahad. You are much more of a mean-spirited troll. You, go rot somewhere deep!

- Will you shut up, you lunatic pest? I swear wait for me to be free and first thing I do, I will break your neck!

She gasped eyes wide. She crawled back fearfully to the corner of the cage. Galahad sulked. Great! He made an enemy of "Tanjin" all over again. But who was she kidding? A dwarf? A troll? Really? He was taller than her! Tanjin was insufferable in all the horrendous versions of him. Still, Galahad wondered what happened to the real Tanjin and if things will ever go back to normal. He glanced in her direction worriedly.

**_The unbridled truth -_**

Tanjin was desperately seeking for air when Aud grabbed him by the throat. He felt the void beneath his feet as he was lifted in the air. Well, maybe, he had underestimated his opponent. There was no point of denying he made a tactical error. But there would be hell to pay in afterlife if a Wolf of Attila went down like that in such a pathetic shameful way. He was forbidden to die like this.

- I see. This little dog likes to fight too. Maybe I should break one first and see what is inside.

Tanjin opened his eyes and sniggered. He wanted to laugh out loud really but the pain in his throat was so intense, he could only manage to let out a distorted grunt. That foolish man was wrong. Dark eyes stared at him. He stared back with an equal amount of hatred, blood running through his nose.

- Oh what is so amusing to little dog?

Tanjin sniggered again, his eyes dead cold. They exchanged predatory stares for what seemed like eternity. Aud felt his fascination grew even more.

- Nothing! Tanjin muttered.

Then he insolently spat blood on Aud's face. He barely remembered what happened next because he was crushed violently against a tree; air deserted his lungs suddenly and he lost awareness of anything else. He made no noise though. He could take this kind of pain. That was nothing. He berated himself mentally. He vaguely heard Galahad plead for their lives. That idiot! He should have run for it when he could. Galahad was not like him. He was not bound by promises. He had Amery. He could make it if he ran for it. Tanjin would try to buy him time. Huns do not on any circumstances yield to their enemies. They do not plead for their lives. They do not kneel in front of adversities. They do not surrender. Though some could argue an exception had been made for Arthur and his knights. The truth he realized not long ago was that he and Arthur had never been enemies to begin with.

Tanjin opened his eyes. Aud's spit-stained face was distorted with anger. Tanjin felt proud of his achievements. Despite the pain, he was still the… He lost focused for a second, his breathing labored.

- So this puppy wants to play now… I am not against it.

He needed to snap out it. His arm was dislocated. But he could still move. His spirit was not broken. It was all that matter. _The will of a Hun is the only thing that comes before blood and flesh._ Attila used to say that the will of a Hun shapes his destiny and determines his reality. Tanjin was still trying to understand what that means but he knew there was no point of yielding now. He made another attempt at breaking free from Aud's hold. It failed. That twig of a man was much stronger than he looked.

- Let's see if I can carve my name into my new puppy.

What? He struggled harder. The blade cut deep into the leather vest and grazed his skin. A shiver coursed his body. What was that? He moved again. The leather was just a piece of fabric. It was just some cheap piece of clothing. Don't let it get you! Don't! Fear was striking every nerve in his body. He was shivering. Yet, Aud was just a piece of fabric away from hurting "her".

He thrashed forcefully against the blade and the pain he felt as it slid deeper into his stomach barely registered. All he knew was that he now felt the breeze blew hot on this very intimate part of him… of her… of them… It all melted all of her sudden, his identity and hers. They were both silently screaming. The knife went out just before going in slowly again and… droplets of blood stained the blade… stained Aud's almost skeletal hand. Tanjin's blood… Their bloods... He had to protect her but did not know how. He failed her like he failed Melan. It was his fault, his miscalculations that resulted in their deaths. Pain suddenly blinded him. He did not have time to escape from it this time. His eyes flinched as he felt the blade slowly carve its ways into his stomach. Tears brimmed in his eyes. He struggled not to make a sound. But she let out a whimper. He lost focus for a brief instant. With a tearing sound a piece of his cloth fell to the ground. A pair of malevolent eyes stared deep into his soul.

- Wait a minute! Looks like my favorite pet has a secret!

He shook his head almost delirious in his fear. It seized him like it always did forcefully and brutally. It raped his will. He felt powerless all of a sudden. It disturbed his reality. He felt small and weak as he tried to avoid his inquisitive stare. Tanjin closed his eyes, wishing he could shut the pain by doing so, and wishing that by doing so, that parasitic fear will stop creeping its ways into him.

The renewed pressure on his throat, the conversations around him, Galahad's supplications, everything was lost and drowned by his fears. Shame washed over him as he stared ahead, his reality collapsing on itself.

_"He was a murderer. No amount of reflection could change that." _

Mother.

_"Ask me Tomorrow!" _

Melan.

"_Strong is just a word. A word like massive walls made to keep your heart from danger. But you have to know that sometimes it just doesn't work that way. You are a good person. I rarely ever met someone as kind as you."_

Talika.

_"Don't you become a girl yet!" _

Duncan.

_"See, I'm not trying to be in your head or anything. I don't need to be in your head. I'm your friend. I just know these things…"_

Morgan.

"_Because if you're my sister we will see again… We will always be there for each other. That's my promise. Because… as long as my name is Morgan and as long as there will be a breath of life in me, I will watch over you. I will always look at you. And you will know that I'm there for you. "_

_Rugha_

_"Sissy roman whore!_ _That thing can tame a pony but can't hold his wine!"_

Unsorted pieces by unsorted pieces like a shattered mosaic on the floor, his mind broke_, _his will invaded him. Reason eluded him.

He opened his eyes weakly to see Keda in front of him. He was not surprised at all.

He blinked like in a dream. His feet barely made any noise on the dry leaves. In a swirl of motions, Keda struck his enemy dead one after the other. His ghostly figure targeted Aud, wrenching his bony hands away from Tanjin's neck. His miracle accomplished, he froze in front of Tanjin and lowered his gaze to the ground. Tanjin watched helplessly as a treacherous sword cut its way through the heart of his beloved brother. Even though he remembered that instant with perfect clarity, even though some part of him knew it had happened a while ago, he felt the same agony. Images of Melan overlapped for a brief instant the sight of his beloved brother. Instead of kneeling down, Keda slashed and struck dead his invisible enemies and he kept on fighting until blood ran out of him.

_"Run! Tanjin, it's an order and don't you ever let her out again! This is war. This is no place for a girl. Just Run!"_

Running was impossible. He felt the urge to protect but it was too late. Keda lifted his sword one last time and decapitated Aud with his ghostly scimitar. Tanjin watched as the scimitar faded in the air like ashes in the rain. He stood there frozen as his heart was sliced in pieces in front of him. He did not know what was what anymore. The lives of whom he held dear slipped through his fingers like sand. He stood there frozen to the spot, the metallic taste of blood on his lips.

Could the world stand still till he learned to master this fear, could it?

The world could never stand still. Melan's life was coming and going. The world never stood still except for the dead. Keda fell on the ground and disappeared like smoke. He stared blankly ahead, biting his lips. He was born so weak.

He still could not move. He was unable to stop the wrath of the gods. He could not stop the Hun sword that severed the life of his beloved brother for good. Tears kept running. He wanted this pain to end. He wanted to be numb again. He needed Olivia. He needed Blue powder. He needed the world to stand still for a while. Aud sheathed his bloody sword with one hand. Tanjin remained pinned where he was like a dead butterfly.

- Let me guess… Something tells me it's hidden here…

Grubby hands grabbed the laces of his vest. Tangwen was screaming her lungs out all inside his head. He let her out. He did. It was because he failed to keep her safe that Keda was dead.

- Let him go, you sick old man!

_"I am better. You forced me to be better than I am. I like that about you, Galahad." _

Help! Someone Help! So much noise inside his head, the fabric gave away and his undershirt was torn off. He stood half naked against the tree. From a valiant wolf, he turned back into a frightened little girl. Such weakness! He stared blankly at a crying Olivia in front of him. Seeing her cry was way too painful to handle. His ears rang sharply. His breathing became shallow and erratic.

- Those specials puppies are mine only.

His mind wandered again. Though he did not want to leave her all alone to fend for herself into this cruel and savage world, he was suddenly so exhausted. He could not muster one coherent thought. Aud let go of him with a triumphant sneer. He thought he heard her scream. Like a blown candle, the light went out all of a sudden. His consciousness slept away all at once.

He faltered before he collapsed on the ground, head first. It was as sudden as death itself.

**_ Hide and seek -_**

Tanjin did not know how much time had passed since his fall from grace. All he knew was that somehow he made it back home. Somehow he felt safe again with the soft caress of the Eastern plains grass under his bloodied palms. He felt good to be home. The hot summer breeze wafted across his sweaty neck. He was so exhausted, each of his footsteps got heavier.

He stood for a moment breathless on the Back of Mundzuck, the hill overlooking the capital of the Hun Kingdom. It was the center of his universe. Nestled protectively under the skirts of the mountains, Karaganda stood insolently blending in the taiga. It was not a large city by far. In fact apart from his father's palace, the rest of the city was comprised only by small huts and frail tents. For the longest time, he had thought there was nothing outside of its walls. The sun shone high in the blue almost cloudless sky. Its brightness made him dizzy.

Soldiers trained. Children played soldiers. Women argued over the smallest things. People were coming and going through the gates of the city. The market was animated and it smelled of honey and olive oil from the south. It smelled of roasted meat, goat cheese and warm bread. Horses roamed freely. Cattle were out feasting on the green. Slaves harvested the fields. Great Grand Mother Leda was barking orders from her palanquin, sitting in the middle of the fields, making grand gesture with her wrinkled hands. He felt his own anxiety grew, his limbs restless, battling the tingling wind. It blew soft strands of hair on his face. He needed to see Talika.

His lips kept moving in a silent prayer as he stood in front of the royal gates. He wished not for the first time that they could take him back. He promised that he would start over. He would be another person really. He would acquire new virtues each day just so that his soul was allowed to rest in peace… with them.

The guards, Vinick and his brother Ricke, did not budge upon seeing him. He pushed through easily without them even blinking.

Lysiane was taking her usual stroll with Kudjila and Sogdian's mother in the garden of the women's quarters. He decided to cross path with them only so that Kudjila could grab him fiercely against her chest and kissed him on his neck like she always did. But when he walked past them, his beloved sister did not move and Tanjin pushed past their ghostly spectral forms without interrupting their heavy chatter. Tanjin turned wishing he had enough voice to call the girls out. But they would not hear him. He sighed.

The corridors of the palace were covered with gold and rich ornaments. Black hangings on the walls rustled under a malicious wind. He stopped by Queen Shohreh's housings. It smells of dry raisins and frankincense. Tanjin pushed the door to Talika's den. The floor and the wall were surprisingly clean of mud and grim. Clothes were thrown haphazardly on the floor and the bed. Jars with mysterious contents going from the dead squirrel to living snakes and spiders were lined up on shelves. There was also a great collection of scrolls lying around. Candles, Fragments of metals, various tools, plans drawn on old parchments covered his desk. A sword scabbard sat on a wooden chest next to his hun bow. Talika called it the Treasure chest. Tanjin knew it was bursting with various weapons, some of which previously belonged to their elders. Talika always denied stealing them though. He had his own conception of the word "borrowing" and it never included the act of "returning" said objects. Tanjin smiled. Everything was so familiar. He heard noises and froze. The door burst open and Talika stood in the threshold for a whole minute facing him.

- Talika?

He was ignored. Talika pushed past him without a word and sat on a stool. Hubris followed suit behind him. Tanjin stood behind them.

- Talika, please make one of these gloves for me?

- Like I already told Bleda and Batur… No.

- But I will pay you.

- With Father's wealth. Surely, you are joking. I do not have a need for money. I am not Rugha.

- Yes, because Father always gives you and Tanjin everything you want!

- So what? Talika shrugged.

He would not apologize for this. They were the youngest. They deserved all the attentions.

- It's unfair.

- It's not. I deserve it. I always ask nicely.

- You are cunning. You are a thief and you are a liar.

- Yes. The King knows all this. Father appreciates my honesty the best.

Talika sighed contentedly.

- What kind of honest attitude is that? Lying all the time, playing tricks all the time, planning mischiefs all day long.

- I have an excitable and passionate nature. I need to be fully entertained for my mind to stay creative. Someone like you would not understand. You will note that I am always sincerely being myself. I don't see how I could apologize for that.

- You're just…

- What?

- Please, brother, imagine what such a well-crafted weapon would do on a battlefield.

Talika stood thoughtful for an instant.

- I can see… It's becoming clear now. Bloodshed!

- Yes? That's it!

- I know, I created it to do just that, dumbass. Talika said sarcastically.

- But…

- I am such a genius. I feel alone sometimes. Don't you feel lonely at times, Hubris? Oh no! I forgot! You have plenty people like you.

- Very funny. You can't give it to Tanjin. Hubris retorted back.

- Why not?

- He is useless and clumsy. He is so small and frail and girly… and roman.

- What's wrong with being Roman?

Hubris shrugged.

- You know what's wrong.

- I don't, really. I'm part Sassanid, remember.

- I don't care for what you think! It is unnatural! They are our enemies. Digg said…

- Digg is an idiot. Don't tell me about idiots? You're ruining my day.

- Well, I was born Hun through my mother anyway!

- Congratulations, you pure-blooded asshole.

- What did you call me?

- You don't look down on a brother, Hubris. You don't!

- But it's Tanjin! He never does anything right!

- Like what?

- He never killed anyone.

- He is eight summers old!

- Well, I had my first kill by then.

- Good for you if you considered hunting a boar a kill! By the way, the answer is still no. I am through talking with you, Thickhead, now get out!

Talika cut the ropes on the leg of a dry goat that was hanging on the ceiling. He took a piece to chew later and offered the rest to Boudika. The tiger munched on it happily.

- You stole that meat from Büyük Büyükanne[1]. She'd get mad if she knew you feed that beast like that. He is supposed to be fed once a moon. Boudika is not even yours. Again, Father gave it to Keda… and Keda gave it to Tanjin. It's always like that! Father got you a new horse. Keda got you a snake. You guys always get everything!

Talika smiled in direction of Dred, his grey and green viper. She was such a gentle soul. It had been years since she bit anyone. He wondered if she'd let Hubris embrace her. That'd be a neat trick!

- Yes, and you forgot to mention that my grand-father promised me an elephant. He is supposed to be here soon. I will let you try him if you're nice to me. That's what brothers are for.

- No, thanks.

- Hubris, you are making such a fuss for nothing. I did not steal anything in that Kitchen. I borrowed some meat that's all and it was all in good faith. It was daylight still. No act of thievery was committed I can assure you. Tanjin is my witness.

- He'd lie for you any day.

- Precisely. That is what a good brother does. Even Father would tell you that.

- See, it's like he is your favorite! Hubris exclaimed indignantly.

- What if he is?! What would be wrong with that? I love him more than I love you, Hubris. Meaning I still love you, anyway. There is nothing wrong with this feeling. You know what's more? I love him for the same reasons you looked down on him. I know one day he will prove all of you wrong. I will be right next to him laughing my ass off when that happens.

- You know what? Screw you, Talika? You're a jerk.

- Thanks for the praise. Now, get out!

Hubris turned to leave. Undisturbed, Boudika continued to eat in the corner of the room. Talika sat behind his desk, his back to Tanjin. He started reading scrolls. Tanjin felt tears prickling his eyes.

- Please, tell me you are not going to cry. Hubris already left me with a headache.

- You…You can see me?

- Of course I can see you, little one. I can smell you. I can feel you. Tanjin, you're my blood. I'm yours. We are the same.

- But usually nobody can see me…and you…

- Why are you here? Talika asked gruffly. Where did the chatty girl go?

Tanjin bit nervously his lips.

- I don't know.

- It's not a good enough answer, young prince.

- I'm sorry that's all I have.

- Sorry will not cut it this time. Where is she?

- I failed again.

- Did you try harder?

Tanjin nodded. At last, Talika turned to face him.

- If you had tried harder… you wouldn't be here, Tanjin.

- That's not fair! You're not being fair, brother! I tried! I tried so hard! I'm exhausted.

- Being exhausted is different from giving up. Which one is it?

Tanjin sighed. Talika chew on some dry meat.

- I'm exhausted. I'm not giving up. I will never give up. I am your brother and a Hun.

- I like that better. You better never give up, Tan. You heard what I told Hubris. You better not disappoint me. I won't forgive you otherwise. Now, come here so I can tuck you in, little one.

- You'll do it like Keda?

Tanjin shrugged his boots off with a groan and climbed in the bed.

- Ah! No, it's too bothersome! I do not have any battle stories to tell. Do you want to hear some gossips? About our evil Büyük Büyükanne? The fight between her and Queen Gudrun for the conquest of the royal kitchen is ongoing.

Lying in a fetal position, Tanjin closed his eyes with a yawn.

- I'd be content if you just lied down with me.

- Is that some surprisingly smart ways to tell me to shut up?

Tanjin only smiled. Talika shrugged his own boots off. He took his shirt off with a groan, revealing the wolf on his back, his piercing eyes filled with malice.

- Alright, I can do that, little one.

**_Protecting what is important to him_**_ -_

Galahad was suddenly awakened by her screams. His reality came crashing down abruptly. Tangwen. He remembered the girl who was not Tanjin and instantly opens his eyes. He remained motionless as the sun blinded him. When did he fell asleep? Probably somewhere between finding her very disturbing and wishing that Tanjin was there. Her screams broke the peace again. He did not know how he could instantly recognize her cries after spending so little time with her. It came to him as an honest surprise. Not too long ago, Tanjin and him were fighting and tearing each other apart. They were rivals… Now, he had the difficult task of looking after Tanjin's fragile alter-ego when he didn't understand what how these relationships work. A wave of panic immediately seized him. He looked around him. She was no longer in the cage but that he already knew. He groaned, his muscles protesting against the effort as he regained his footing like he could, his hands and feet still bound awkwardly. There she was standing surrounding by a crowd of men and facing the woad leader no less.

She was shivering. From where he stood, he could see her shivering in fear. Why didn't he wake up sooner? In answer to her screams, Galahad started knocking the bars with his shackled wrists, making quite a commotion.

- Aud! He screamed. Leave her alone! She doesn't know anything!

She let out one last ear-splitting scream and stood in the middle of all the men. Aud froze his bony hands inches from the girl's shivering face. Tangwen tried her best to put a good front but each time she tried to step away from Aud she was brutally pushed back in front of him.

- Are you scared, little bitch? Aud asked.

Tanjin stayed silent. What was she supposed to do?

- Answer me, little girl.

Startled, she nodded quickly... Frantically…Tears streamed down her cheeks and her lips shivered against the air. Aud frowned and continued to stare at her in disgust.

- Have you ever been with a man?

She did not answer, staring at the ground. Amusement took over the crowd.

- Will you answer… or do you want me to cut this conversation short and threw you to the crowd?

She could not breathe at the idea. She shook her head. Her voice surprised him.

- Please, sir… Please, don't hurt us…Tanjin…Come back…Now… I am scared… Please don't leave me here… Please I promise I will be good… I will be quiet forever… Please Tanjin… Tanjin…

- Who are you calling for? Are you not…

Aud frowned at her odd behavior.

- Please Tanjin... Tanjin please…just come back…

The woad leader turned to his second in command.

- What's with her? What happened to her? I said to treat her well. I said they were mine.

Adnan raised his hands in the air.

- We did nothing to her, my lord. She is naturally crazy. He snorted.

The crowd laughed at that. Aud silenced them with a glare.

- Bring the other puppy to me.

Adnan gestured to a guard who opened the cage. Galahad was grabbed firmly and hoisted unceremoniously on his feet and dragged in the circle.

- Did you sleep well, my dear little dog? Aud asked, his hands behind his back.

Tangwen instinctively inched herself closer to Galahad. He cursed his inability to move freely. He wanted to grab her hand and run. She was shivering so much, the chains that restrained her feet rustled softly. If only, she'd untie him earlier. As if he could read his mind, Aud smiled with yellow teeth.

- I am disappointed you see. I expected you two to try to escape last night. I made it so easy for you to attempt it. It is almost… How do you say? Ridiculous… That's it. Vexing also. Am I the only one here making an effort for this relationship to bloom and prosper? You see… I…

Aud stepped closer to Tangwen and reach for her hair. With her scream, she tumbled down in an attempt to escape his reach and Galahad went down with her in the process. When the guards tried to retrieve her, she held onto Galahad with all the strength she had in one hand. She looked at him, tears blurring her vision.

- He is not coming back, Galahad. I tried calling him. It's so quiet inside. So very… quiet… I don't…It was never this quiet…I can't… I want to… go home… I'm sorry… Why is he not coming? She whispered in his ears, panting. He would not leave me here, right?

Galahad did not know what to say. Aud observed them with curiosity.

- Idiotic dogs, are you two already broken? He asked.

Galahad shook his head, trying to find back the courage to talk for both of them. _Tanjin, I need you now. Where are you? _

- See, little dog, I do not understand and need to learn like anybody else. If one has one drop of fighting spirit left he would try to escape his fate, don't you agree? Then I, Aud, would crush that hope…in one instant… for my own amusement. It would be called purpose, don't you think?

- Galahad…

- Shhh… Don't talk anymore, Tangwen. Purpose, you said? I don't get it.

- Do you not understand what you are, little dog?

Aud took a step closer. Burying her nose in his neck, Tangwen muffled another scream.

- Make her stop or I will.

- Shh… It's alright. I am here. You're scaring her!

- She brutally murdered my men yesterday and I am the one scaring her?

- She was not the one who did that to your men. Listen, I will tell you everything! I will tell you all you want to know about the knights and Arthur but I want you to let her go! I won't talk if you don't let her go.

Aud taped an anxious finger on his cheek, pensive.

- Leverage. You think you have that?

- Information was what you wanted.

- I am troubled. You care not for what I want, little dog, even though I am your new Master. It is disconcerting to say the least. Arthur did not teach you well. Why should I make it easier for you, you samartian dogs? Why?!

Aud suddenly roared, surprising everyone with his sudden outburst. Galahad took a deep breath.

- I do not know what you want from us! What the bloody hell do you want from us? You don't want information! Why don't you kill us? Galahad shouted back.

- Again, you say such insensitive words! You are one idiotic dog! You know not your place! You know why you don't deserve death yet? You did not fulfill your purpose! That is why! Master is very displeased!

- What are we supposed to understand? This is driving me crazy… Whether it's Tanjin or it's you, I don't get what you want from me?

Aud gave him a dirty look.

- Are you mocking me? She called this name too. What is that?

- Huh?

- Where is my brave fearless insolent puppy? I only see this disgusting thing? Where is its instinct? Where is the rage in its eyes? Where is the strength? Is it broken? Does it not work anymore? It can't be because I saw it. Those eyes were astonishingly beautiful and strong. We never saw anything like it. We want to see it again. Is it too much to ask? Should I really grant you two a death without purpose?

Galahad swallowed hard.

- I see you want to see Tanjin. Galahad muttered, finally understanding what all of this was all about.

- That name… again… Is it not Tanjin?

Galahad frowned, thinking hard for a moment. Finally he shook his head.

- Hey, Tell him who you are. Galahad said, staring at the girl.

- Why should I? Tanjin said…

- Tanjin is not here. Do it… Do as I say for now, I beg you.

- I am Tangwen. I am not Tanjin. Tanjin is not here. She muttered.

There was a collective gasp from the crowd.

- How is it possible?

- Untie me and I will tell you. Galahad said.

- What?

- You heard me.

- You want to give me orders, puppy.

- I don't. I finally understand what you are after and I am willing to help you get it.

- What am I after?

Galahad smiled.

- A challenge. A trial so hard and difficult, it would change your life forever. Also he is something you've never seen before and probably never will again. That's Tanjin for you.

- Untie him.

- Sire!

- I said untie him.

- The girl too…

- Untie them both! Aud groaned impatiently.

Adnan did as he was told and for the first time, Galahad was able to hold onto Tangwen. Calmly, he stood in front of the woad leader.

- Now talk. Where is he? How is this possible?

- The answer is simple in fact. It's because you don't deserve him, of course.

- How impudent for you to talk like this to Master Aud! Screamed a man indignantly.

- Silence! What did you say, idiotic dog?

- Only what I know for sure, you are probably underserving of Tanjin's attentions. He always appeared on whims, coming and going between our world and the world of the invisible. He is powerful like that. He will eventually strike you down punishing you for hurting his host at the most inopportune moment. I am afraid he never plays fair. It's regrettable you're going to die soon.

- I am about to die? What brought this sudden confidence? The girl is a host? Aud sniggered. For what? That is ridiculous. Never heard of…such…

- Not so much. You see, the samartians and the Huns have commons ancestors. So we do have beliefs in common. Şeytan Düzenbazlara are demons tricksters that possess the souls of weak humans, infant at birth. They love the tender spirit of children... They take time in corrupting it and molding it. They used them in order to roam the world of the living and get their fresh intake of blood and souls.

Aud frowned. He looked at Tangwen, still trapped in Galahad's arms.

- You want to tell me this frail little girl is possessed by a spirit… a demon… named Tanjin. It is the demon I saw?

- He is more like a God. At least, he thinks he is. His ego has the same limit as the sky. Galahad added.

It was easy. He was not lying in the slightest. If Aud wanted to be entertained he could do that much. Tanjin was not the only one who could tell stories.

- You think I will believe this nonsense?

- I don't care for what you believe. In fact, I am more afraid he will come back than I am afraid of you. He can turn grass red. You, on the other hand, you could only bore me. I bet you think about killing us quickly. Tanjin would never do that. He'd make us suffer just for fun. See, I also had expectations.

Aud's face clenched in disgust.

- Impossible! It is impossible! You dare mock me !

- You may scare the girl. But you do not scare me… He is much scarier…

- That little brat I saw yesterday…

- Remember how he chopped all your men in half… You will come to wish he would do it to you because then you'd have it easy.

- I told you it is impossible !

- Not for the Mighty Huns' magic? Even you know who they are!

- Lawless monsters from the East Mountains. Adnan intervened. Their leader was said to be ruthless, rampaging and destroying everything on his path. He almost destroyed the Roman Empire. The Goths from the Old Land feared him like a demi-god.

- Yes, the Great Attila, baptized by the Romans "the Scourge of God".

- He is not on this earth anymore. The romans killed him.

- They did not really. His blood runs thicker than death. They did not kill his kin. That girl… You're not afraid to scare… She is his.

The crowd gasped again.

- Is it true, girl? Aud asked.

Tangwen lowered her gaze to the ground. Light flickered in her eyes before her eyes become dead. Her pupils dilated ostensibly. Eyes like shards of emerald green stared into nothingness. Beads of sweat shone on her face.

- Fa…ther si…sired us. Yes, he did. He said you are my blood and flesh. He said I give you this world. He said for you to conquer and prosper. He said knowledge to a prince is everything. He said learn well from your friends and your enemies. He said your will only will shape your reality. He said Perception to a Hun is Reality.

Galahad felt a chill at the back of his head. As she kept on, eyes eerily blank, her voice became more and more hollow and grave, more devoid of emotion with each passing second. The words were spoken with determination and finality. Galahad bit on his lips anxiously. Tanjin? Was he waking up?

- He said Reality is born from Will. He said Will comes before Blood and Flesh. He said Will is what forges the sword. He said pain is what tries to undo the sword. He said Blood is the cement for Resolve. He said our blood is thickened by the Ambrosia that was given by the Gods, our forefathers. He said it ultimately strengthens the Blood. He said it ultimately strengthens the Clan. He said this is the way of the Mighty Huns. He said care only for what the King wants. He said never yield. He said never kneel. He said to never compromise. He said to crush the enemies of the clan until nothing is left of their corrupted blood. He said protect the clan till your last breath. He said do not forget. He said tonight I give you my blood and by this I bind you to me he said. He said do not fail me…your Father, your King… Do not fail me Tanjin, he said.

She exhaled tiredly at the end and slumped unconscious into Galahad's open arms.

- I don't think I need to convince you further. He watched with Tangwen with a languid fascination.

Galahad thanked whoever sent that girl his way. She was doing great. They were doing great. This was a great play.

- Attila wanted his children to be just as powerful as him so he did the unthinkable. He sacrificed his own blood and flesh to the Gods.

- This is…

- Do you really think the Roman would have kept the girl alive for no reason? Especially knowing who her father is… Arthur is no fool. He knows how powerful the Hun magic is. We, the Samartian of the East, told him. We warned him enough. So when he saw who she is, he recognized her instantly. She is the one piece that will make him win this war.

Aud frowned at that, anger blazing in his eyes. Galahad shrugged nonchalantly, waiting for the bait to fall.

- I want to talk again with the demon.

- If you hurt her in any capacity, you risk irritating the demon. I told you he is a trickster. He likes to play games above everything else, games where he is the only one to know the rules.

- But…

- However it is not impossible for her to call him back.

- Then she will do it this inst…

- But seeing as she's been hurt and mistreated lately, seeing as she is so exhausted, it will take some time for her to gather the necessary strength…

- What are you saying?

- Clothes and foods… If you are willing to serve her, she may be able to call him back. Even though I don't want him back, I am willing to lend you a hand in this matter. I will be able to help since I know him so well, children to children. He likes to play a lot. I will even give you the key to subdue him…and harness his power.

- Little dog… you…

- I am getting tired of your antics now. My name is Galahad.

Galahad said coldly, sending a glare in Aud's direction. Aud said nothing.

- Very well, bring clothes for the girl and food for both.

- Lord… How do you want us to spare a ration for them? We barely have enough to...

- Starve yourself I do not care! I said to feed them! See, Merlin did not want to believe me. See! I told him there was meaning in this! He would not listen! He would call me crazy. But not anymore… I will make him listen. Sent words for him to come. I have something he must see.

- But… Lord…

- He thinks just because he has that young witch on his side, he can do what he wants. He can disrespect me like that. I want him to witness when I win this war. I will be the one that history will remember. I will make him yield with the demon by my side.

Galahad breathed a sigh of relief and smiled inwardly. Everything was going as plan. He was starting to really get the hang of this. He was no longer afraid for his life. He only had one mission. He had to protect her. Tanjin would get better soon. Until then, he would take care of her. He will save them all.

* * *

[1] They are referring to their Great grand-mother Leda. She is the grand-mother of Attila and a frightening figure in the palace. Tanjin and his brothers are deeply afraid of her for good reasons. She is old like the oldest stone in the country. She is blind but omniscient. She is mean and can strike very fast for an old bird. She is cunning and cruel. She doesn't like children. Who are we kidding? She doesn't like people at all. The only person who get a stamp of approval from her is the King himself. She adores Attila.

Hubris and Talika don't share the same mother. I don't recall having discussed this before. Hubris is the son of Krimiel ( pronounce Krim-il), the Fourth concubine, the "Companion". He is four years older than Talika. Talika is the son of Shohreh, the Fifth queen "the Persian queen".

I really need your opinions on this chapter. So, please for the love of Tanjin/Tangwen demonic incarnation, hit that "review" button, plz.


	24. Every man for himself

-24-

**Every Man for himself**

Nothing lives here.

The valley is empty, devoid of sounds and smells. There was not even the lingering scent of the battered earth in the air. The sun had broken through the clouds as if it wanted to claim the last days of summer. It was hot, almost suffocating. Arthur got down from his horse and retrieved his skin of water. Approaching the skin from his muddied lips, he decided otherwise tossing the remaining water over his head. He shook his head then, groggily. He glanced back. Behind him lied a beautiful carnage like no other, Blue demons and Roman limbs entwined, crimson smearing green, the soil ploughed from within. A hopeless scream echoed in the valley and Arthur saw Percival shut the culprit's mouth in one strong strike of mace. Silence swooped over again.

It was time to count the dead.

Arthur lifted his eyes to the ruins, the very ruins; he asked Tanjin, Galahad and Melan to hide behind. The more they advanced in Epithelium, the more evident it became that whoever god who was once watching over this piece of land had packed his belongings and deserted this place at once. The woads had left none alive, children, women, elders… Those who didn't escape with Aloysius and his sister had died defending their homes. Wind had blown through centuries through its towers and windowsills, but one week had been enough for the walls of the oldest fortress in Britain to be covered in a gritty layer of putrid death. It was everywhere now, no longer a pale grey; the only remaining tower was now the color of soot.

Braden approached, shoulders slouched.

- How many? Arthur asked before Braden even spoke.

Braden stopped in his tracks.

- Eleven.

Arthur watched in rapture the wind shaking the leaves of the dark forest of Broceliande.

- How many? He repeated.

Braden could only shake his head in answer. Sylena's husband was exhausted. The last encounter with the enemy had left him drained. It's been three days without rest. His face was pale and dirty. In that state, he found it all the more difficult to find his words.

- Arthur…You know… I… Lancelot… It's bad…It's…

Arthur started to walk away before Braden could even finish his sentence. The direction was of no importance. He looked at the last fortification of Epithelium. Then he looked at the forest, half expecting to be struck dead by an arrow. He hesitated again. Behind him, the sun started its race behind the hills, putting an end to their third day of research. They searched the forest. They even searched the banks of the Caedern River which crossed Broceliande. Not only Tanjin and Galahad remained missing but their whereabouts were still left unexplained. Two days had been the limit he sets on for himself. He was passed that.

Yet, as their leader, Arthur knew he had to set his limits somewhere. He had to anticipate on their grief. The more time passes, the less chance they had. It was quite that simple. It was the sad horrible truth. He was passed being hopeful. He was passed being naïve. He was the one who had to make the call. It was left to him to call their deaths. Not one of them would have that strength and two days had been the limits he set on for himself. Yesterday, he convinced himself they needed more time and that today would be the new deadline. Arthur stared blankly ahead as the sun settled on the third day. He was again tempted to make tomorrow the new deadline.

Arthur felt his vision blurred. He crouched grabbing the uneven grass in front of him for support. For one brief instant, the forest stood still. Then, Dark shadowy figures in the distance, the trees like skeletons danced uninvitingly in front of his eyes.

- Brooding already? You could at least wait for the sun to settle down.

- Lancelot… You're not resting. Why am I not surprised?

Agitated, Lancelot's mare was refusing to calm down. The knight grabbed the reins more forcefully but his girl refused to obey. With a glance over his shoulder, Arthur realized his hands were a shaking mess. Gritting his teeth, Lancelot ordered her to calm down in samartian but she relented even more. Realizing Arthur was watching. Lancelot embraced its collarbone for support and let himself fall from the saddle ungracefully. He struggled hard to regain his footing. Then, when he did come to an understanding with the ground beneath his feet again, he smiled even more.

Arthur shook his head. There was so many things wrong with the world around him; he had no time to enunciate all that was wrong with Lancelot. He rose in time to catch the mare's reins as she passed by. Lancelot took a tentative step forward.

- How did I do? Not bad for a first time, he joked.

Arthur wiped his face wearily. He was not in the mood for jokes.

- I told you to find shelter.

- Like a damn damsel in distress…

- I asked only one thing of you and…

- I did exactly what you ask of me… I am still breathing… I barely engaged in the fight. They were no vanguard. They were pretty weak today.

- You could have been killed.

- Just like any one of us… It's just another day, more or less the same, remember.

- You're wounded?

- And…

- You're making it a pain for anyone around you to protect you.

- And?

Arthur sighed. There was no use fighting with Lancelot. His horse was probably finding him just as insufferable. He patted its crest softly in an attempt to pacify the animal.

- If it was not for the stench impregnating the last walls, we could use the battlements for camps tonight. There's an exceptional view on the forest and…

- It reeks like death. Arthur said.

- Well, yes. Like I said, it would not be so much for the décor, pretty macabre, I would agree, but more for the vantage point. Think about it! You could see them coming!

Arthur sent a glare in his direction.

- Nothing lives here.

Lancelot smiled. His face pallid and discolored was only proving that statement to be true. He looked as if he belonged there. His ghostly figure suspended through time. Arthur had already understood that Lancelot was no longer seeking the boys. He was seeking Death itself as if he had a score to settle with it.

- We are going home. He said.

- No.

Lancelot smiled, blood smearing his lips.

- It's too late for that. Death is already clinging on us. We should enjoy this while we can.

Lancelot pointed a finger in front of him. A dark shadowy figure was walking through the vast field. As it drew closer, Arthur distinguished a human shape, the silhouette of a woman, slender and petite, in dark cloaks. Her skin was white as bone. Her hair hung around her as black as the night. There was almost nothing to disturb the pure white of her eyes except for a patch of crystal gray irises. She frowned as she faced them. For a brief instant as the sun was setting down, her shadow appeared as grand as the tallest tree.

Arthur took a step back.

- Do not worry. Lancelot says. She is only here to collect the bones and the ashes.

Arthur turned to his friend in horror. Lancelot's face was rotting away under the last ray of sunlight. Arthur could not find his voice back. It was then that the lady spoke in a language so foreign; he could not understand a word she says.

- I guess God is really a woman. She is so very pretty!

Lancelot snorted just before the vision snapped his neck. Blood splattered everywhere. Arthur did not have time to see her move. Her motions fluid and smooth like shadows. He did not have time to run from her. He could only scream.

However, his screams did not fail to wake the whole camp. Finding it hard to breathe, Arthur fluttered his eyelids open. He jolted awake, cold sweat collecting on his brow, as he tried to calm the unsteady rhythm of his heart.

- Arthur? Calm down!

- Let him breathe!

Eyelids half-open, Arthur searched desperately in the darkness.

- Huh! Where's Lancelot? Lancelot? Where is he?! Tell me!

Dagonet exchanged a worried glance with Bors. The other man did not know what to do. He scratched his head apologetically and glanced over the place where Lancelot lied under multiple covers.

- Listen, Arthur. He is not awake at this moment. Lad is still fighting that fever with everything he's got. You know him. He will be better in no time. You should rest.

- You are not well too.

Dagonet said as he continued undressing the fresh wound on Arthur's shoulder.

- You are wounded, remember.

Arthur shook his head, breathlessly.

- We have to go home...

- Tanjin and Galahad… What do we do…?

- We have to go home… Today…is the day… We go home… today.

- Arthur? Aloysius sat down on his hinges beside him. You have to listen. You need to rest. You took a bad hit behind your head.

- Lancelot… we won't have time to save… everyone. We need to go now.

Arthur took a deep breath. He remembered then. They did not stop seeking. For three days without rest, they seek under every rock and inside every rabbit hole. They found nothing. On the morning of the fourth day, they were attacked by the rebels. His shoulder was wounded in the struggle. Eleven soldiers died in that ambush… Eleven… At the end, every one of them, even Lancelot, was barely standing. He remembered hearing Lancelot laughed and finding the sound odd… It was subtle then. But he knew at that moment, that something was off or at least partially misplaced. He should have called it off sooner. This useless quest… This senseless struggle to do right instead of wrong, he was losing. Tanjin and Galahad were dead or… they were somewhere wishing they were dead. There was nothing he could do for them. He could never reach them, he realized. The others they were very much alive. They were still breathing and fighting for their freedom.

The truth was… When he saw Lancelot collapsed on that battlefield, falling from his mare, in the most disgraceful manner known to a warrior. He lost all hope he ever had. When Lancelot touched the ground, he lost his sense of right from wrong. He wanted a way out of this hell.

For there was no way he could lead them without Lancelot. Arthur was no leader without him. He was not cut out for this and Lancelot was the only one who'd ever realized this. Just like Aloysius, Arthur had witnessed his father's fall. Then, every day like a ritual, he ran to his grave and tried to pick his heavy rusty sword from the dry sludge. Every time, he failed. Excalibur was one of the most intricate swords ever made. Iron-forged, its hilt was thin and practical. Yet as a child, he could barely grab it with two hands. It was sheltered in blue-tinted leather adorned with Celtic runes with the meaning "For Love and for the Country". He remembered repeating these words over and over and over again in a prayer until they make sense to him. Every day, Arthur tried to lift that sword from the ground. Every day he failed.

He made many promises to God. He promised he will defend the weak with Excalibur, that he will strive to be better, or that he be a great leader of men one day just like his father. Until, one day, the ground gave out or he actually grew stronger. He was still quite unsure what happened on that day. He hauled that sword up only to witness his own mother's demise. Then he made new promises to God and demanded even more favors.

One day, he met a boy his age born in summer just like him. His hair was a curly mess of brown. A smirk never left his mouth. He looked the most unhappy to be there. Well, needless to say, a good first impression is hard to make. Lancelot was never good at first impressions and it did not go well.

- _You must be joking, little lord! _

_That boy said recklessly. His comrades laughed behind him. _

- _I beg your pardon, soldier. _

- _Nothing, I was just thinking aloud. _

- _No, speak your mind. You are allowed here to say what is on your mind. I will never hold it against you and harm you for your beliefs. I will have nothing but respect for your opinion. This is valid for all of you. I take an oath now. _

- _You're too kind, little master. You need not bother. _

- _What is your name? _

_Lancelot burst out laughing._

- _You want to know my name? _

- _Yes. What is so hilarious to you? _

- _I travelled for two years to arrive in this damn country and none of you Romans ever took the time to ask for my damn name before! _

_A guard immediately stepped forward his fist raised and ready to strike. _

- _Shut it you fool! You will learn respect, now! Do you hear?_

_Before the guard took another step toward the samartian boy, Arthur unsheathed Excalibur and raised it above him with both hands still trembling. _

- _If you take one more step toward my men, you will lose a limb, soldier. He is free to speak. I say. He is free to speak. _

_Lancelot swallowed the smirk on his face. _

- _Your name? _

- _My real name is quite unpronounceable in the common tongue. _

- _Try me. Arthur said. _

- _Ludziwoj… _

_The others boys laughed. Arthur faced him. Noticing with a relief, there was at least one boy who he could discuss to on eye-level. The samartian was the same size than him. _

- _Well, mine is Lucius Artorius. You can call me Arthur. _

- _Very well, sir. _

- _Not Sir... Not young master… Not little Lord. Say Arthur._

- _Arthur…_

- _ What do you go by now, Ludziwoj? _

- _My sister… She was young. She called me Lancelot. I go by that name now. _

- _Lancelot is fine by me. So what were you just thinking earlier Lancelot?_

- _Nothing… Well, I was thinking that it was impossible for you to be the one in charge here. _

- _Why not? _

- _You're quite frail for one. _

- _You're not very muscular yourself. Do you see me doubting your abilities? So why?_

- _We would be doomed! That's why? _

_Surprisingly, Arthur burst out laughing and he was joined by the other members of the cavalry. _

- _I like this. _

- _What? _

- _That kind of trail of thoughts? Can you read roman, Lancelot? _

- _No._

- _That boy cannot read at all. By the way, I'm Bors and I will not be changing name. An older boy said behind Lancelot. Arthur offered him a smile in answer and turned once more to Lancelot. _

- _True, I cannot read. Tristran can. He can also read maps if that's what you need. _

_Arthur shrugged. _

- _You will learn then. I will teach you. _

- _Learn?! I absolutely hate learning!_

_Arthur's smile widened. _

- _ Why me? Lancelot groaned. _

- _You will need to. We need you to guide us, Lancelot. I depend on you now because of my modest size, remember?_

- _Great! I knew I should have kept it quiet!_

- _Told you boy! That tongue of yours will always get you in trouble! Bors added. _

- _Sir…Arthur, forget it! I will never speak my mind ever again! Ever! Watch me! _

Arthur bolted upright and struggled against Dagonet and Bors. The commotion attracted the attention of the whole camp.

- The sun…is not up yet. Let's wait a few hours before making a decision.

- The decision is made. We need to go back now.

- You can't do that. They are still out there! Duncan protested. I'm not going back.

- You're going, Duncan and if I have to carry you against your will…

Duncan's eyes widened at Arthur's threat. With a grunt, Arthur shrugged Bors and Dagonet off him.

- Leave me be! Listen, I will not leave anyone of you behind!

- But you cannot abandon them!

- They are dead, Duncan!

- I might as well join them because that place is not my home.

- I am you commander and you will do as I say.

- Arthur! Gawain intervened. Please, don't get this wrong but…

Arthur ignored him. His eyes met with Tristan. Tristan was leaning against a tree, unmoved. Arthur sent a glare in his direction before turning to the others. Tristan could have predicted this outcome, hours ago. When he saw Lancelot collapsed on the battlefield, he had the sentiment that this was coming.

- Every one pack all your belongings, we're leaving now.

Aloysius turned to Bors, worriedly.

- I've never seen Arthur so agitated…so unreasonable… What happened?

Bors shrugged.

- Lancelot is dying. That is what happened.

Crushing the bones to dust with the hilt of her dagger, Morgan stared blankly as a drop of blood run across the ceramic. She spit again in the plate and watched closely as spit and blood mingled together and raced on the corner of the pottery. She felt a sense of relief washed over her when, putting the plate down on the counter, the droplet of blood changed course. She dropped a sophisticated combination of herbs and oils in a bronze mortar. A raven croaked on the windowsill.

- Be patient, Tîl!

She whispered as she crushed her ingredients.

- Come closer if you want to take look.

Flapping his wings anxiously, the raven nodded frantically. With a leap, he landed on the table next to her potions and ingredients. The bird watched with a genuine fascination her proceedings. His little paws tapping the woods.

- Did you fight again with Caedmon? You know you ought to not do that. Hawks are very proud creatures. They never forget a face in addition. We don't want to have him as our enemy.

Tîl croaked again seemingly agreeing. He mirrored curiously the motion of her hands. At last, she finished her preparations with a smile. She rinsed her bloodied hands with water and grabbed the left-over of her dinner on another windowsill.

- Let's see if your brothers left you something?

She extended a piece of meat in front of his beak. Morgan was about to embark on her very first adventure. Even though she measured plainly the dangers she was about to face, she couldn't help feeling a tad bit excited. Lady Vivian was right. The Goddess was wonderful, frighteningly beautiful, life and death entwined.

The first rays of lights bathed the room. The girl quietly walked towards the balcony. Outside, fog embraced the pillars supporting the balcony like a comforting white mantle. Morgan breathed in the fresh morning dew. She loved dawn, the stillness of the landscape, the quietness that went with it, the soft and warm caress of light on her pallid skin just like she imagined a kiss would be. Dawn was one of those moments where she could distinguish the shapes from the shadows with almost perfect clarity. Tîl soared majestically in the sky.

She moved without thinking, languidly. Morgan danced with the rising sun. She danced with the air. Her sorrow vanished like a soft puff of mist. Her doubts disappeared next. She let the warmth of the Goddess embraced her. Tîl flew around her and she let him land graciously on the back of her hands. Unafraid she let the soft sunlight bruise her skin with its warmth.

_Can't you see what I see?_

_I felt so alive_

_When all my dreams_

_Were just one wish away__**[1]**_

She swirled and twirled again in a flurry of burgundy skirts. Her hair was no longer a frightening black under the sun but a glorious and inviting ebony with wisp of auburn. There was a knock on the door but she remained oblivious of everything.

The heavy doors were pushed wide open by Calybrid and Callysto. The twins called out for her softly in the dim darkness of the bedroom chamber. However, Snowblossom's piercing eyes had already spotted her on the balcony from the threshold. The blonde put a finger on her lips, silencing the other two. She watched captivated as a raven surrounded the wild child, flying around her in a perfect choreography. The mist surrounded her with care and love, entwining around one ankle then the other, then vanishing again.

Child-like peals of laughter rang in the air as Morgan bent over elegantly for a reverence. The mist of Avalon inflated like a big fluffy cloud above the balcony before dispersing again. Tîl landed softly on the balcony and flapped his wings. Snowblossom was caught in rapture. She never saw anything like this before. Even Mother Vivian was made powerful by the Hand of the Goddess.

But this… this was so breathtaking.

Morgan turned and froze.

- Oh! You surprised me! You all gathered here. Good morning, Children.

Her face flushed, Calybrid turned to the bed in order to tidy it.

- Good morning, Mother. You woke up early, I see. Did you sleep well?

- I did not get much sleep. The Goddess whispered in my ears all night.

Callysto poured her a glass of water.

- Is she unnerved like us by the presence of all those stinking men?

- This is none of your business. SnowBlossom cut in harshly. You don't have to know what the Goddess tells Mother. You should not meddle, Callysto.

- That's harsh, Snow! Sister only wanted to say that Morgan…

- Mind your manners, Calybrid. I won't tell you again.

- I'm sorry.

- SnowBlossom, please…

Morgan extended her hand toward the glass of water. She took a sip.

- Sorry, Mother.

- It's alright, Calybrid. You can still call me, Morgan. I don't really mind. In fact I would love it. I'm not really used to being the grown one either.

- No, Mother. I shouldn't have called you that. It was disrespectful at best. Forgive me.

- Done. All is forgiven since there was nothing to forgive to begin with.

Morgan patted Calybrid's cheek with a gentle smile. Snow sighed.

- Mother, we just received words late at night that...

- I know, Snow, the goddess told me.

- Well, last night, he sent a bird. I did not want to bother you in your time of rest so I did not call for you. But he requested an audience with you as soon as possible. Should I send a letter of rebuttal? We are still in our days of mourning. No man is allowed to trouble you in such time. Merlin knows this more than most.

- No need, I already sent a bird to Father myself. I will meet with him today.

Calybrid cringed. Callysto was sending Morgan all kinds of desperate signals. Snowblossom gave all three of them a stern look. Morgan blushed.

- I mean… Merlin… Merlin…The leader of the first people….I will meet with him this afternoon…

- It's not that simple. SnowBlossom stated.

- It is not? Muttered Calybrid, surprised.

She thought that Morgan was to be the Mother now that Mother Vivian was gone. She also thought that it means that she was in charge, meaning what she said was truth.

- Is it not? Wondered Morgan.

- We cannot welcome here even a man of influence like him. The Goddess would not allow it. The rule is the rule, Mother. No man is allowed here during our time of mourning. Merlin would be the worst anyway.

- Let me deal with the Goddess, Snow.

It was Snow's turn to blush. Pink suffused life in her otherwise lifeless cheeks, even the tip of her ears changed color. Morgan could not see the beautiful tint that colored her face but she noticed that in the midst of discomfort, Snowblossom's beauty was even more out of this world.

- Don't look so sad! I never said, I will welcome him in Avalon. No, we will meet on sacred grounds under the eyes of the goddess.

- The Giants Ring? Calybrid wondered aloud.

- Stonehenge? Callysto asked surprised.

- Yes, we are going on a quest. Morgan announced. Are you excited?

- Really?

Calybrid took Morgan's hands in hers but she could not contain her excitement. Morgan nodded.

- I am so happy! It's been such a long time since we've been to the world outside!

- I do not approve of this. There is a war brewing just outside our walls. It is way too dangerous.

- But you will be there!

- The Roman Cavalry from the Wall has been spotted countless times as we speak. They traveled across our frontier at ease.

- I do not trust these men. Added Callysto who was considerably less adventurous than a sister.

- There is also the matter of the rogue, Aud Askin. He has gone mad years ago… He is constantly challenging our borders.

- All the more reasons for us to go!

- I cannot obey the goddess and protect Mother at the same time. Be reasonable, Mother.

- I am sure you will find a way to make this trip safe. We will take Harkin with us. She's been brooding since Vivian's death. She needs the exercise.

- Just the five of us… You cannot be serious. We cannot even shed blood on our days of mourning. How will we defend ourselves? This is just…

- Simple, we will respect our Goddess's wishes. We won't shed blood at all. Prepare my boat, now. Stock it with food and water. We're leaving at once. No more questions, Snow. I promise you answers but not now. Not now.

Snowblossom nodded half-hearted.

Perched on the counter of the tavern, Amery was teaching a little fish how to swim in this grand vast world.

- There's still a spot here! She said in a best candy sweet voice.

Down on all fours, Yseult sent a glare in her direction.

- What? Amery asked innocently.

- I already scrub twice there, Amery.

- Obviously, you're not very good at scrubbing, milady. Otherwise, it would have been clean already. Didn't your mother teach you anything useful before she passed away?

- Yours probably did, right?

Amery clutched her fingers.

- She replies now. This is new. It will take some getting used to. Took you long enough. It's been what? Four days. Still, you have surprisingly the sharpest tongue, milady. To answer your question, no, my mother did not teach me anything useful. She died too early for that.

- My sincerest apologies…

- Not needed! I never needed anyone to survive in this world unlike you, young lady! Amery said somberly.

- I get it! You don't like me much, do you?! Can we move past that?

Amery yawned.

- There's still an ugly spot over there. We can't have our generous patrons come in such a dirty place! Vanora will get mad. She will have our hide. No. Mine. Since I am in charge here.

- It's perfect already!

- Perfectly dirty, that is, you slob! Do it again, I say!

- No!

- You dare disobey me.

- I tried enough. You are so self-absorbed and selfish. I do not care for what you think of me. But I ought to employ my time better! I will not waste it on senseless tasks.

- So you think you are better than this!

- Yes! This is foolish. The cement here is dusty by years of misuses. All these dirt is not going anywhere! Why bother?!

- So you are better than me then?

- I never said that! Stop putting words in my mouth!

- If my judgment is not up to your liking, you should perhaps go your ladyship! I will not bother you anymore! Give me my brush. I will scrub this dirt myself. Go back to your nice gardens and lavish rooms. Go back to your life!

- You are misusing my words again.

- Am I really?

- Listen, I'm sorry my family detained Tanjin as a slave. That was very unfortunate. I will even express my deepest apology directly to him when the men come back.

- This is not about Tanjin anymore. I don't like you. I don't like your pink snotty nose to begin with. Also, I don't like those cherry lips that never told a lie to feed them. Everything about you is sickening! Sorry!

Blue eyes were suddenly blurry with unshed tears. Amery shrugged with indifference at the damages she's caused. It was all for good. This girl did not belong here.

- Like I said, I am sorry. I realized we both have different circumstances. We come from different world. We are different. But I watch you work every day of this week and you put all your heart in it. You are smart and witty, Amery. You just know what to say to please men. I cannot imagine ever being able to do the same.

Amery was unsure how to respond to that.

- Wait, not because of the line of work you do. I mean your work… is…. Your work. Well, I was supposed to get married this summer. My intended was considerably older and more experienced than me. He is dead now. He was among the first who died back there… That's not what I really wanted to say….Well, even now, I can't imagine talking to men like you do. Did you know that the first men I ever spoke to were the knights at that first council meeting? And there was this one knight…A brunet with curly hair… I don't remember how he was called.

- Lancelot. Amery volunteered.

- Yes. Him! When he speaks, my hands become all sweaty. My heart thumps painfully in my chest. I want to hide my shame under a rock. It looks so easy for you.

- Lancelot Fever. That's what we call it around here. Every girl will go through it at one point in her life.

- A disease? Yseut looked doubtful.

- Yes, a dangerous one at that. You want him. That's all this is about. He is good looking after all. He is probably the best-looking of the bunch. Well, Galahad, even Gawain are ten times more handsome in my opinion but to each his own. I did have Lancelot Fever two years ago so I won't judge. After all, it is true that he is the most experienced. Well, Blaez is surprisingly not faring too bad in that department. He can be surprisingly tender and he is very creative. But I guess he doesn't talk much and he likes playing with fire literally.

- Experienced. You mean?

- In bed. Yes!

- Oh!

Yseult blushed violently.

- You're turning red. You do work in a brothel. It's not a real brothel. Stinky with sweat and musk…Soft cushions everywhere…Whores running around naked…But we do offer these kinds of services to our most valuable customers. Lancelot is quite valuable I can tell you. He could be the owner.

- I know… I know what kind of services the tavern offer. You call it comfort… I know! It's just… I can't imagine…

- Lancelot fever. He flirts with every girl. You want to believe you will be the first but it isn't so. There are probably many that came before you and an even bigger queue line is already forming waiting for you to finish with him. It's a known process. But thankfully there's a cure.

- A cure? What is the cure? Yseult whispered embarrassed.

- Bedding him of course… in all kinds of crazy ways…if you can that is.

- You did?

- Yes, several times… Many times. But my loyalty goes somewhere else now.

- The Hun… I heard.

- It's another story. It's a long story. But what I will tell you is you don't really have to be scared of him. Lancelot… He is not like most men. He is gentle at heart. He will never harm you. None of them will do that. Harm a woman. The truth is not many men are as kind and harmless as the Knights of the Round Table and I wish they were my only customers. But, it's just a wish nothing more.

Amery fell silent at that. She was suddenly feeling like she had shared too much. Yseut shrugged and smiled.

- Anyway, I don't think I will be able to look at them in the eyes… Any of them… They are so different from the soldiers in Epithelium. They are wild and carefree. They are so outspoken. The company looked like a band of brothers.

- It's all they have since they are so far from their country. Each other… All they have is each other.

- Yes, I guess the girls at the tavern are a company too, a sisterhood sort of.

Amery smiled at that. She truly missed the noise and agitation that the knights brought with them every night. She missed watching Sylena argue with Braden. She missed seeing Vanora chasing Bors with a brood in tow. Above all, she missed Tanjin's company. She even missed Galahad's arms… His warmth… She nervously bit her lower lips when thinking of the latter. It was not like they separated in the best terms. She prayed it was not the last time she see them. It was probably not fair to take her anxiety out on Goldilocks here. She half expected her to not show up on the first day and the day after that. But Yseult was surprisingly thick-skinned. She always came in and she never complained much about the bad treatment.

- I…guess we could say that. You are right. We are. You should put on the cloak so as nobody recognizes you. The house will start to fill up soon.

Arthur hastily saddled his horse.

- Do you want to talk? Aloysius offered.

Arthur gathered Lancelot belongings and repeated the process.

- I think we need to talk. We really do. I feel responsible.

- Are you ready to go?

- I don't mind going back to the fort now but I do not think it is the wish of your men. They still think the youngest are alive. You are crushing their hopes with rushing in this decision.

Arthur said nothing tying Lancelot's mare to his.

- Listen, I know you and Lancelot are like brothers…

- I sense an annoying "but" coming.

- You are different today…Very hard to approach…

- I am in a hurry when everyone around me is assuming we are on a stroll. Why is that?

- Arthur... Consider this… What is the strategy here?

- Retreat. Quick Retreat. Another question?

Aloysius shrugged.

- Are you ready to go?

- I may not have been on the battlefield for as long as you do. But I saw this happen so many times in my days in Epithelium. It's unfortunate for Lancelot. It really is. But I know he is not going to make it to the Great Wall of Hadrian. What will you do then?

- Go back to your horse, young master Aloysius. I won't tell you again. Be ready to go on my call.

Aloysius watched Arthur mount then he secured the reins in his left hands, restraining the Captain of the Samartian knights

- Do you have another suggestion? Do you have a better idea?

- I get it. You are not ready to let him go. I did not want to let my father go and I brought all of you down with me. We have to find help south. They are villages south. We could find a healer. He could have a chance.

- What if there is nothing south? Nothing but Aud Askin and his army of rebels… Nothing but destruction…

- You used to take more chances than that.

- Not with Lancelot's life… Not like this…

He turned.

- Bors, you can bring him now.

With the help of Bors and Dagonet, Arthur hauled Lancelot up on his horse and he climbed behind him.

Duncan watched from a distance for a few minutes before he decided to slowly exit the scene. Dragging Aurora along, he stepped away from the others. Not minding him, Braden nodded in his direction before continuing his conversations with Percival. Andreas gave him some berries he found. When he considered he was at a safe enough distance, he mounted Aurora. Soon, he was riding South with her. Before he got in a good rhythm, he was joined by another rider.

- Tristan! He yelled in the wind.

- Looks like you're set to go… at last! Took you long enough!

Duncan groaned inwardly and stopped Aurora. Illyria neighed loudly.

- This is none of your business, Tristan.

Tristan shrugged.

- You took forever to pack. This is my business. It is my time.

- I wanted to go discreetly.

- When Arthur ordered the gathering, I simply walked away.

- I wished you had enough heart to realize how sad it was that no one actually noticed your departure, Tristan.

- I will have difficulty sleeping over it from now on if it makes you happy, Duncan. Tristan retorted sarcastically.

- You are hopeless.

- You are wasting my time. You are wasting hers.

Yes, Duncan could only agree at that. They did not have time for this. He barely slept and ate these past few days. Knowing Tanjin and Galahad were out there somewhere, captive or wounded, or both, was unbearable. Never for a second, could he believe that Tanjin was dead. If Tanjin had died, Duncan held the strange notion that he'd have felt it, that something in him would snap and break and he'd definitely feel that kind of loss. He would know it. Instead each time he closed his eyes, he could hear distinctly Tanjin asking for help.

The other knights were conflicted. They did their best. They kept searching these past few days out of a sense of sympathy and comradeship. But most of them did not know what to believe. Hope was waning. Blaez was eerily quiet. He had not said a word since the disappearance of the youngest. Aggravain cried at night when he thought no one could hear him. Gawain did not know how to deal with his own grief. He heard Callan whispered last night to Andreas how much he wanted to go back. They did their best. They did not stop searching these past few days. Nobody complained of exhaustion. Nobody said they wanted to rest. They all willingly put their life on the line to save the youngest. Then, they were ambushed yesterday by another small party. They almost did not make it.

And Lancelot fell unconscious after the battle and his fever got worse. That was a loss too.

So he was definitely not angry at his commander for wanting to end the nightmare one way or another. He could see where Arthur was coming from. The more they kept going the less chance they had that they could go home. The blue-demons were deserving of their titles. They knew the land better and they fully took advantage of this knowledge. Not one part of this area was safe. Where he was crouching earlier gathering his few possessions was not safe. One roman soldier named Lucius learned it the hard way. They lost eleven in three days. This was Hell. There was no other name he could find for it. Arthur also had things he wanted to protect. He seriously could not imagine life without Lancelot anyway. He had to stay alive. He was needed.

So he was not so much angry as he was frustrated with the situation… with himself. He was frustrated that he could not do more. Then, he thought about it for a second. Indeed, he could do more. The only question that remained how far was he willing to go to save Tanjin? He already answered that one long ago.

- What do you want, Tristan?

- I want nothing from you. Only thing is, I am going with you.

- First, I never said I was going anywhere. Second, even if I was going somewhere, there is no reason for you to think, I will travel to that place with you.

- It was my fault. I take full responsibilities for my actions. Keeping all of you in the dark was wrong. I did not do it because I thought it was serving a purpose. I concealed the truth because it was convenient to me. It gave me a sense of possession and control. It was not irrelevant data to me because she is extraordinary inside and out. She is the first thing I have ever been curious about. The first creature that made me wonder. You saw how enticing it was to want to know more about her. So, yes, I was being selfish. I wanted her for myself regardless of her own wishes. Now, I want to find her and the only one I want to make amend to, is her.

Duncan paused then he nodded. He nudged Aurora forward. They settled in a comfortable trot.

- Well, they will notice our absence soon, at least mine. So it's now or never. You are sure you want to do this? This is desertion, you know?

Tristan shrugged as he followed.

- I've been ready and waiting for your signal all afternoon.

- Sorry, I disappointed you, Tristan. I will be on time next time. Let's go!

- Where to?

- You're the scout.

- But you found something…

- You watched me.

- I did.

- It's a creepy habit of yours.

- Stop being so sensitive, it's annoying.

- Well, Scourge is still missing and… he is trained to find his way home whatever that is.

- He has a temper.

- See, that's where you're wrong. Horses don't behave like that. They do have tempers... But they never strayed from patterns. They obey instincts and commands. Their first attachment is to their master.

- He is not fond of Tanjin. I thought he liked you better than he ever liked Tanjin.

- Well, he likes me enough. But he is not here, is he? His first instinct was to run and flee obviously.

- Yes, we all know Scourge can run for days. How is that going to help us?

- There comes the command part.

- You think he went back… to Tanjin.

- He always does. See, we found Sage after he turned in circle all day. Sage was not Galahad's horse if you remember.

- Yes, last spring, his mare fell into a ditch. How could I not remember, he sulked for days. I wished he fell with her.

- I promised that I will find him another mount but I could not find any good specimen at the market a few weeks ago. So, Galahad took Sage who previously lost his master. They don't have that much of a bond not like Scourge and Tanjin.

- So if Scourge followed Tanjin, we find Scourge and we find Tanjin. Is that your logic?

- Weather is dry. It's been four days but I think I can still find his tracks.

- You don't like it?

- I was thinking more along we find the blue-demons, we annihilate them, we find Tanjin.

- Do you happen to have one on hand that we could use right now? Also, do you speak their language because I sure can't? Arthur and Lancelot already tried that. Remember? They do not volunteer information easily!

- Your logic is…

- Flawed?

- Unfortunately… Far from it…Why didn't you tell Arthur at the very least?

- You know why Tristan. Arthur would not agree with this. Since we have to enter the woods to find those tracks. We're also too visible the way we are now. How are we going to make it if we all band together and sit waiting to get ambushed? Besides, it would be impossible for Lancelot to follow us any further than this. They must leave without us. They must do it now. The others are exhausted and some of them sustained injuries that need to be checked up.

- So you do think of others besides Tanjin.

- Not really, I don't care what could happen to you, Tristan. Duncan said candidly.

- That's good. I'm not going to look after you either.

Tristan said giving his mare a nudge toward a blanket of trees. Illyria hissed. They were all startled to see a horse emerged from the trees. None other than Gawain stood with his mare in front of them, blocking their way.

- Don't tell me you were going without me? Are you idiots? You're going to get killed or kill each other by accident! You guys need me!

- How did you?

How did Gawain make it so fast here was what Duncan wanted to know?

- You made it fast. Tristan also noted.

Gawain shrugged nonchalantly.

- As soon as Arthur ordered to pack…I knew there was no need in negotiating.

Tristan smiled deviously. Duncan grunted. Well, if it was that simple…

- I went my own way. I thought you might come by here or that at the very least, I'd see you pass by.

Yes, that was probably good thinking on Gawain's part. He was smarter than he looked.

- Gawain, it's dangerous to be out here. Go back. Duncan said.

- You go back. I told Aggravain to tell Arthur. He should be doing so right at this precise moment. So you go back first and tell me how it went. We are so going to be whipped! I'm currently mourning the skin on my back. Better start now after all…

- This is not a gathering, Gawain. Tristan announced.

- No, it's a rescue mission and you and Duncan, are not doing any rescuing right now while you're busy complaining.

- I'm not complaining. Tristan said. He is.

Duncan sent a glare in his direction.

- Fine, suit yourself, Gawain. If you die…

- I know… Aggravain knows. My brother knows what to do in case I don't make it. But I will make it, and so will you two… There's no way we're going to die here…Right? Please reassure me. This is a rescue mission not a suicide one?

Duncan shrugged with a smile.

- We did not decide on that yet.

- Are you afraid of death, Gawain? Tristan asked matter-of-factly.

- Very much so…

- Good. Tristan approved.

- … I like breathing…eating…fucking my way through life too much to quit now…I'm also so young and pretty.

Tristan nudged Illyria forward in the woods. Gawain kept going.

- Since we're going to spend so much time together. I propose we pass the time learning more about each other… Being truthful for once… It could come in handy… You never know… I will start… I must say I get uncomfortable around tiny creatures that roam the night…. I hate spiders mostly… and bugs…Well, you got the idea… Hum… I don't really like when Bors cook because he always rubs himself before cutting the vegetables. I make myself vomit on those days but please let's keep this a secret. We should not burden Bors and his humongous balls. I mean did you ever see them? They're huge! Did you ever ask yourself how he manages to walk with these between his legs? No? Okay! Aggravain and I did… All the time… I don't like the color red. I find it too intense. Reminds me of a battlefield all the time. I like green. One day, I will have a nice gentleman suit and I will make it green… I don't like spirits, demons, gods and goddesses… Not the Goddess… You know the one who is supposed to walk in those very woods. Because I would not want to offend her in any ways… Not after what she did to Danis and Melan… She did disfigure them… So well, I don't really like spirits, demons, gods and goddesses… Again, not that I'd met any… but I do believe in them. Not like Danis used to… More in the "Mother warned you before" kind of way. My mother, she was the worrywart type. She was the type to warn you about the sun, you see. She believes it was evil. Sometimes in the summer, I happen to side with her entirely about that but that's another story for another time. She also warned Aggravain and me about red-haired. She did not like those. Hum…She did not like those. I love those. And there is this girl…back in the fort…On market days, she holds a stand for her family. She sells cloths and jewels… you see and it got me thinking. Maybe next time, I could go to her stand with Tanjin in tow, with "him" being a girl and all. He may like to buy something girly for once. I'd have a reason to ask her name then, the girl, not Tanjin…obviously…

- Can we come back where we started Gawain? Tristan said, visibly having heard more than enough gibberish and nonsense for the day.

- Yes. We are on our way to do something insanely dangerous. That's where we were, right?

- Yes, we are currently crossing the woods searching for a horse…searching for Scourge's tracks and we won't stop until we found them.

Gawain's blue eyes widened comically.

- We are crossing the wood with our mounts? With the blue-demons following our trails like our shadows? Do you remember Finn?

- Aurora and I, we can do it, can you?

- Of course I can! Gawain laughed heartily. He shrugged nonchalantly. Well, I don't know if I can… Sure, we are going to do this...Try it I mean. We will see. I will get back to you then… If I encountered any troubles like roots and twigs and knotted trees. This is getting more and more exciting. But this is not what astounds me the most…

- What astound you Gawain? Tristan asked, impatiently.

- You. Looking out for others. Being so patient. You did left me time to ramble quite a bit. You even pretended to care for one brief instant. Well, no you didn't. But it almost felt like you did. Also, you do look unusually anxious, Tristan. It's kind of scary and ominous… and exciting… We are on an adventure together! Let's make it the best of our brief existences!

- I do not believe it! You two seem to have a death wish in common. Tristan said.

- Don't you desperately want to make amend, Tristan? Duncan asked.

- Not on my death bed, I don't.

- You said once that you did not care where or when you die. Were you just trying to impress a Hun?

Tristan flashed him an angry scowl.

- I am just saying… I like Gawain spirit.

- Thank you, Sir.

- You two sicken me.

- Good, that's as good a start as any. Gawain noted.

- Yes, getting back your soul will come next. Duncan added dryly. Be ready for it, Tristan. Be ready for it!

* * *

[1] KATRA - ONE WISH AWAY LYRICS


End file.
